The Serpent and the Lion
by Sevotharte
Summary: They were one of the greatest pure-blood families, always maintaining their independence in the wizarding world. But as the second war breaks out Tywin Lannister sends his daughter Cersei to Lord Voldemort. Her mission: to charm a certain Dark Lord.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter or A Song of Ice and Fire. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and ASoIaF to George R.R. Martin. I had this plot bunny and just had to write it down. English is not my first language so i hope i haven't mady any grammar or spelling mistakes.

The Serpent and the Lion

~Prologue~

The great formidable castle Casterly Rock was built into an immense rock formation protected and surrounded by the sea. The castle's fortifications were built into and on top of the rock so it was impossible for intruders to sneak into the giant fortress. The castle was the seat of House Lannister, one of the greatest and most powerful pure-blood families in Europe. Their sigil was a golden lion on a red field and so far the lions have kept their independence in the wizarding world. They didn't feel the need to concern themselves with the Ministry of Magic and lived by their own rules. But they also knew that they had to live in secrecy to maintain their special status. Tywin Lannister, Lord and Castellan of Casterly Rock made sure that the Ministry wouldn't have a reason to act against them, to take away their freedom. His family was old and proud and Lord Tywin always used to say that the Lion doesn't concern itself with sheep.

So the Lannisters kept to themselves. They didn't send their children to Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to learn the arts of magic. Why should they? The Lion was above everyone else. No professor would be good and gifted enough to teach and tame a Lion. After his wife's death Tywin kept his three children close. They learned what it meant to be a Lannister. What it meant to uphold their family name. That everything was connected to the honor and pride of their house and everything else was second rate. Yes, magic played an important role in their daily lives. But it was just a tool to achieve their goals, nothing else. Lord Tywin believed that the most important thing was a strong and intelligent mind. The mind was the greatest weapon a Lannister possessed.

His daughter, Cersei couldn't agree more. Manipulation and cunning were her specialty. Simple words were far more effective than any spell she could think of. The young woman was often surprised herself that she didn't have to rely on magic than other witches. Her unrivaled beauty, her wit and charm were all that she needed. She didn't need an unforgivable curse to get rid of her enemies. Sometimes sweet words and poisoned wine were enough to silence them for good.

Her twin brother Jaime often told her that she sometimes frightened him. That she was becoming as cold and calculating like their dear father. She didn't mind. It only reassured her that she had learned her father's lessons well. That she would one day be the true heir to rule over Casterly Rock.

She silently stared at her twin, her soul-mate standing at the window. His eyes scanned the dark sky, a smirk on his face as he watched a black shadow slowly fading away, "Ah, look, sister. Father has turned down another Death Eater. They sure are persistent, aren't they? Always coming back like flies."

Cersei shrugged, "They never learn. The Lion isn't interested in snakes."

"Such a pity, really. I wouldn't mind if father would decide to join them. It's getting rather dull to stay here and do nothing while a war is raging outside. Sometimes you need a bit entertainment in life, don't you agree?"

As in response Cersei could only sigh. Her brother was always eager to go out there and fight with that magical sword of his. Maybe he was aware of the consequences of taking a side in that war but he just didn't seem to care. There were times when she liked his boldness and she sometimes wished she'd have a little bit of his spirit in her too. But today she felt otherwise. Maybe it was her father's voice in her head, telling her that a Lion waits in the grass. That it waits for his prey to come to him. It was never the other way around.

_Patience_, she thought. _You need to have patience, Jaime. Everything comes to those who wait._

"It's better this way.", she finally said. "Our family hasn't joined the first wizarding war. Why participate in the second war now? This doesn't concern us. It would only be a waste of our precious time."

"Oh, sweet sister.", he began and moved closer to hold her hand, a smile playing around his lips, "You really need to turn off father's voice and allow yourself to have a bit more fun in life."

He kissed her forehead and continued, "If you don't change your ways, I fear you'll turn into a female version of our father. And by the seven gods, I swear to you, one Tywin is enough for me. I don't need two. That would surely kill me."

She looked up to him and his handsome features tried hard to imitate his father's stern face.

The woman couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculous attempt to sound like the mighty Tywin Lannister. These were the times when she saw the strong resemblance to their younger brother Tyrion. Maybe Jaime was spending too much time with that little dwarf and subconsciously copied his manner of speaking. She wished Jaime wouldn't love that monkey-demon so much. Yes, she couldn't deny that Tyrion was as cunning as she was. But his flaw was that he didn't seem to take everything related to their family seriously. He lived a lavish life, generously spending their father's money and only thinking about his own enjoyment. She recognized traces of Tyrions's personality in her twin and it annoyed her greatly.

She shook her head and gave him a disapproving look, "You should learn to think about our family first. It's disconcerting that I'm the only one of us who seems to care."

Jaime couldn't help but sigh. Cersei knew that her brother didn't like to be lectured. Before she could say anything more she discovered a servant entering her personal quarters.

The man bowed deeply and said, "Mylady, forgive my interruption but your Lord Father requested your presence in the Hall of Heroes."

Cersei looked annoyed. "Now?", she asked dryly.

"Immediately.", he promptly added.

She nodded, "I'll be on my way then."

The blonde woman gave her brother a good-bye kiss and left the room, heading straight to the great hall. The hall was located at the center of the castle. It was usually used to welcome guests and to hold audiences. She wondered why her father had summoned her here.

_It must be something important._, she thought.

She arrived at the hall and was greeted by the loud roars of the stormy sea beneath them. Her father stood at a great table, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Good, you're finally here. I began to wonder what took you so long.", he said with an accusingly tone in his voice.

"You requested my presence, father?"

The old man nodded and gestured to her to take a seat at the table. "I have. There have been disturbing reports. There are changes that I can no longer ignore and I guess it's time to adjust our plans."

"What do these reports say?", she wanted to know.

"Lord Varys has recently informed us that the Dark Lord has taken control of the Ministry of Magic. We can no longer afford to play the role of the silent observer now. We have to act quickly if we want to ensure the safety and position of our House.", he explained.

"So, what is your strategy? Do you want to join Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix?", she asked him curiously.

He snorted, "Do you think the Lion would join the loser's side? On the contrary, we will establish an alliance with the Snake. I've given the Death Eater a message for his Master. It says that I will send an envoy to seal the pact."

Her green eyes gave away a look of surprise but her face remained an emotionless mask. "And who do you want to send as your messenger? I hope it's my little brother Tyrion. It's about time he does something useful in his life."

"Your brother may be up to the task but sending the lowest of the Lannisters might insult the Dark Lord." He eyed her carefully, "No, I've decided that you will go to Malfoy Manor. You have a way with words and I know you won't disappoint me. I'm sure you'll represent our House with great care and act according to the best of our interests."

He now moved to her side and placed a hand on her right shoulder, his blue eyes piercing intensely into her green emerald ones. "I need you to be the Lioness I always wanted you to be. You'll agree to his terms but you will never, I say never bow down to the snake. We are Lions. And Lions don't kneel down before a snake. If he tries to place his Dark Mark on your forearm to mark you as his own, you will resist. Do your hear me? The honor of our house is at stake here. We can't allow to appear weak before our enemies. We are not like the Malfoys who cower and tremble in fear. We are his equals. Remember that and if he's reluctant be sure to remind him of this fact ."

She slowly nodded, "I understand, Father. So the snake will not really be our ally?"

Her father shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "Have you forgotten, Cersei? Everyone who isn't us is an enemy."

"I know, Father. I'll never forget this."

He suddenly moved away and turned his back to her. His voice a cold whisper, "Go now, child. And don't disappoint me."

She stood up and glanced at him for a few seconds. She wanted to ask him why she was the chosen one to be his envoy. 

_This is unfair. Why not Tyrion? Or Jaime? _

She felt betrayed. Why did she always get the most complicated assignments? Walking right into the snake's lair was more than dangerous. Almost suicidal. She wondered how she would manage to get out alive of this predicament. She took a deep breath and straightened herself.

_I am a Lion of Casterly Rock. I can do this. Yes, it's a challenge. But it's been some time that I had a __good challenge. I have to look at it like Jaime. This will be fun. _

She allowed herself to smile. No one could resist her charms. Not even a certain Dark Lord.


	2. The Dance begins

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, i don't own anything and i'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reviewing, OpheliaBlack. Yes, there aren't many crossover-stories out there so i'm really looking forward to your crossover. I'm glad that i got Cersei and Tywin's characters right, don't want to turn these guys OOC. Hopefully i can keep it up ;)

The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 1: The Dance begins~

One of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters escorted them to Malfoy Manor. Cersei was accompanied by her father's council member, Lord Petyr Baelish. First she wanted to have Jaime in her entourage but had quickly decided against that notion. Her brother's temper was unpredictable and too much of a risk. Just one wrong step and there would be a bloodbath. No, it was better to be joined by her father's advisor. What she needed was a quick and attentive mind. Someone who was highly skilled as a consultant for negotiations. She knew that she could depend on him.

Her companion with the small pointed chin beard smiled slyly as they walked through the large gardens. "An impressive place. The Malfoys certainly are a rich family. No wonder the Dark Lord has chosen this Manor as his current residence."

"It serves its purpose.", she agreed. The Manor was located in Wiltshire and there were no Muggles living around here. A fitting place to use as a base of operations.

She glanced at him and whispered in a low tone so that only he could hear her, "Are there any news from Varys?"

He shrugged. "I'm afraid, there are no new reports from the Spider, Mylady. Perhaps this is a good sign. This man brings only dark tidings. An ill-omened messenger like him should dress in black."

"Dark wings, dark words.", she muttered.

He nodded. "So they say. Look, we've arrived at our destination."

Their escort, a man wearing a black cloak and his face hidden under a skull mask, opened the door to the hallway.

They followed him inside and were greeted by Lucius Malfoy and his wife Narcissa. Lucius bowed slightly, took her hand in his and kissed her golden lion ring. "Lady Cersei, it's a great honor to have you here as our guest."

She nodded. "Thank you, Lucius. But tell me, how long has it been since we last saw each other?"

"It was the evening of the Quidditch World Cup, Mylady. You looked beautiful that night." He took a moment to behold her graceful figure and added with a smile. "Beautiful as always."

"And your words are flattering as always, Lucius. But please, enough of the pleasantries. We both know all too well that many things have changed during the last few months. You look very exhausted, my friend."

"We are at war, Mylady. And the Dark Lord honours us with his presence. There are...", he paused for a second as if he was carefully choosing his next words and continued slowly, "There are many things on my mind, i'm afraid. And sleeping is a luxury which I can no longer afford."

"It truly grieves me to see a great and skillful wizard such as yourself in such a poor and sorry state." She stated, noticing his tired face and the dark rings under his sunken eyes. His wife, Narcissa didn't look any better.

She gave him a disappointed look. "I wonder, Lucius, where has your pride gone? I've always heard the Malfoy family belonged to the most respected pure-blood families in Britain. What would the great Abraxas Malfoy say if he saw you now? That aura of your commanding and daunting presence completely gone. A pity, really. You're no longer a family worthy of our respect. A family we would call our equals."

"We still are!", he suddenly snapped and Cersei couldn't help but smile at his sudden outburst. For generations there had always been rivalries between their families. And Cersei just kept up the tradition of mocking one another when she saw an opening to do so.

She glanced at Lord Baelish who shared her mocking smile. "Ah, have I offended you, my friend? My apologies. Sometimes I tend to speak my father's words. It's a bad habit of mine."

Her host glared at her cooly and quickly cleared his throat. "It is time to bring you to our Master. He is eagerly awaiting your arrival."

"Of course, please lead the way." she said softly.

Lucius turned to them and snootily sneered at Lord Baelish. "Your escort has to stay here. His lordship has instructed me that he wants to speak to you alone."

Her companion wanted to raise his hand in protest but when he saw Cersei's emerald eyes flashing at him he paused and stepped aside.

_This is certainly unexpected but it changes nothing. I can handle this alone._ She thought warily.

She followed the blond man through a large hallway, heavily decorated with family portraits lining the walls.

_Probably his ancestors_, she thought as she studied the many different faces. Everyone of them wore that same arrogant smirk on their lips.

After minutes of walking they've finally reached the end of the hallway and Lucius waved at her to come closer. He looked at her nervously and his hand suddenly held her arm in a tight grip. He moved closer so that he could whisper in her ear. "I know why you're here. But I can only offer you a word of advice. Don't make the same mistake as we did. The Dark Lord...", his voice suddenly broke and Cersei never thought she'd see the tall and mighty Lucius Malfoy crestfallen like this. He seemed to compose himself again and continued with a pleading voice "You can't bargain with the Dark Lord. You don't know him like I do. He... he is dangerous. You should turn away and leave this cursed place while you still can."

Cersei frowned, her face darkening. "I appreciate your concern, Lucius. I really do. But I act under my father's direct orders and I can't turn back now, it's not an option."

"Then this will be your downfall, Mylady. I can assure you that." he predicted with a grim voice.

Cersei peered at him with an expression of faint disfavour. "We shall see how well the Lion dances with the Serpent, shall we not?" She abruptly took her wand and opened the heavy wooden doors with a quick motion.

"Lucius, if you would be so kind enough to leave? I have an audience with your Master." She dismissed him and averted her eyes.

Lord Voldemort's right hand glared at her for a moment, turned on his heel and walked away, his cape billowing behind him like the black wings of a bat.

She closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath. There was nothing to be afraid of. If her sibling Jaime would be here at her side he'd say this to her.

_I am a Lion of the Rock_, she reminded herself and finally turned to face a large room. It seemed to be a meeting place. She could see a huge and ornate table in the center. A hooded man sat at its far end. A pitch-black shadow in the ominous darkness and a large green snake resting at his feet. The only source of light was a nearby fireplace. Its flames casting eerily shadows on the white walls and pure marble floor.

She didn't know if he had noticed her arrival but she decided to wait. It was better not to interrupt the Dark Lord's musings. After a seemingly long period of silence his gaze suddenly turned to her. His voice a low hiss as he saw her standing at the doorway. "Ah, you must be the envoy Lord Tywin has sent me. Come girl, have a seat."

Scarlet eyes regarded her thoughtfully, watching her every step. His intent gaze made her feel uneasy, even vulnerable. As if his eyes could penetrate her inner mind's defenses and see right through her. It was unnerving but she tried to compose herself. She knew it was all a matter of appearance. The first impression was what counted the most. That was also the reason why she chose to wear flowing robes of green silk, perfectly matching the green of her eyes. The lion of Lannister was embroidered in gold thread on her shoulders. A sign that she valued her family above everything else. She was well aware that green was also the colour of Salazar Slytherin, Lord Voldemort's ancestor.

She couldn't say if he was pleased or not. His face was concealed under his hood. Only his eyes were visible. Two red rubies glinting in the darkness.

The young woman bowed courteously and sat next to him. Her every move graceful and her green eyes never leaving his.

She started, her voice sounding matter-of-factly. "Mylord, it is an honor to finally meet you in person and I hope we can come to an agreement that will be beneficial for both of us."

"You are his daughter, correct? I believe Cersei was your name?"

"Yes, Mylord."

"I must confess myself disappointed. I've expected Tywin Lannister himself, not his daughter.", he remarked in a displeased sounding voice.

"The Lord of Casterly Rock must always remain at his seat. It's an ancient tradition. I hope you can forgive my father." She explained apologetically, feeling her uneasiness again. It was even worse, now that she was so close to his presence She couldn't deny that there was an malicious and sinister aura around him. It just didn't feel right. Her only hope was that her emotionless mask didn't betray her thoughts and feelings.

"Lord Voldemort never forgives and never forgets, my dear. But it is a lesson Lord Tywin shall learn soon. For now I allow you to take his place and accept you as his envoy."

She respectfully inclined her head.

"So then, tell me, what can the Lord of Casterly Rock offer me?" he asked her curiously.

Cersei allowed herself to smile. "Everything, Mylord."

"_Everything_?"

"Everything you desire shall be yours. If we'd offer you that boy... Harry James Potter. Would that be sufficient?" She smiled inwardly. That half-blood wizard, Harry Potter was her trump card. This would surely tempt him.

His eyes gleamed dangerously as she mentioned the boy's name. "_Harry Potter_? Why should you succeed in capturing that boy where all my Death Eaters before you have failed?"

She lifted her head, pride filling her voice. "Your Death Eaters are no Lannisters. And a Lannister always pays his debts."

Voldemort leaned back in his armchair, his hands neatly folded on the table. "I can assure you I will capture Harry Potter myself. It is only a matter of time. But I begin to wonder if your family is really willing to join my cause."

"How can you doubt us?" She asked him, wondering if something had gone wrong.

"My loyal spy, Serverus Snape visited me yesterday and I have received very interesting information regarding a new recruit of the Order."

She felt her stomach instantly tighten. "What kind of information?" she asked him hoarsely.

"It seems that your younger brother, Tyrion Lannister has recently joined the Order of the Phoenix. Is this how you prove your loyalty to me? To secretly ally with my enemies and plot behind my back?" he hissed in a furious tone.

_That ugly little monkey-demon. I swear by the gods, this time I'll kill him myself!_ _I shall have his ugly head on a spike!_ She thought angrily, carefully keeping her anger at bay.

She sighed and grimaced. "I should have told you this sooner. It was my brother's idea to infiltrate the Order. He plans to destroy them from within. My father thinks that Tyrion is acting like a fool here but he allowed it nonetheless. It doesn't matter if he succeeds. We now have a spy in our enemy's ranks. It should prove useful, Mylord. Don't you agree?"

Cersei never once blinked when she told her lie. She was an expert in selling lies and half-truths convincingly. It sounded genuine to her own ears and she was sure it should do the trick.

The Dark Lord suddenly stood up. The fire's red flames dancing in his serpentine eyes. He looked down on her, making her feel weak and small.

"Are you aware that I can invade your mind to find out if you've told me the truth?"

She nodded, her calm voice giving nothing away,. "Legilimency, yes."

He studied her face and she had the impression that he was considering using his Legilimency on her or not. It seemed that he was satisfied with her answer because he changed the subject again.

"You've offered me everything I desire."

"Anything, Mylord." she assured him and hoped that their negotiations would soon come to an end. But after Lucius' words of warning she should've known better.

Cersei was sure that she could see his thin lips curling into a cruel smile. "You shall have Lord Voldemort's alliance in exchange for your son."

Shock numbed her senses. But it was soon filled with rage. Her green eyes burning like a fiery fire. Cersei's mouth tightened. "Joffrey is just a ten year old boy. You can't have him."

"You _will_ give me your son. Or our negotiations are over and you won't leave this Manor alive."

She knew she was walking on rotten ice now. One wrong step and she'd plunge through.

_Calm down, calm down. _She thought to herself, fighting to still her rage.

Cersei fancied herself subtle. Her face always showing an unreadable mask. But now that her boy's life was threatened, she slowly lost her cool. Her anger, fear and despair began to seep through. She had to admit that her son was her one and only weakness.. Like a lioness she felt the strong urge to protect her little pub. It was a mother's instinct. She couldn't do anything about it.

The young woman stood up, looking at him defiantly. "A mother loves her only child and you want to take him away from me?. You offer me a bitter cup to drink from."

It was clear what this was all about. Voldemort didn't care about her son. All he needed was a hostage to have leverage over her family. It was a very clever move. This man standing right in front of her knew how to play the game. And she had been foolish enough to underestimate him. A terrible mistake. The realization came too late. All she could do now was play by his rules. To at least minimize the damage. There was no other way.

She narrowed her eyes. "If Mylord needs a Lannister at his side, wouldn't it be prudent to choose me? My son is too young and he would be of no use to you.", she suggested.

The Dark Lord slid his hand up into his sleeves, reaching for something. His yew wand now twirling in his delicate white hands.

"Ah, and what would I do with _you_?" he asked her mockingly, his wand tip moving closer and closer, now painfully pressing against her cheek.

_He only wants to test you, to intimidate you. Don't let it affect you._ Cersei winced in pain but still managed giving him a seductive smile. "I could be of great assistance. I could even fight at your side if you'd give me your approval. I promise you won't regret it."

"I believe i've told you before that i'd kill you if you won't give me what I asked for." he reminded her, his red eyes boring into hers.

"Kill me then. You won't have my son." She spat reluctantly and couldn't believe what she had just said. That she would accept death so easily.

_It's for Joff. Make it quick then_, she thought bitterly.

There was a long brooding silence. All she saw were his red eyes glowing in the shadows of his hood and his wand hovering in front of her field of vision.

"Interesting." he finally hissed, his wand tip trailing down the line of her jaw.

Cersei held her breath, she had anticipated to die any minute now, expecting him to use the Avada Kedavra curse. But there was nothing. No curse, no spell. Nothing.

His spidery fingers violently clutched her chin now, slowly lifting it. His voice a soft murmur as he whispered in her ear almost tenderly, "_Crucio!_"

The impact of the Cruciatus Curse hit her slender figure with full force. It felt like black tendrils sending fire through her whole system. The pain was accompanied by a sudden shock wave. Like lightning piercing through her sensitive flesh. Tongues of acid hungrily licking her nerves that spasm her body into convulsion. The agony was so overwhelming that she couldn't even think clearly. Her world became white. All she saw was a cloud of white flying before her eyes. The glittering spectrum of pain turned into pure blazing agony as she felt the curse intensifying. She could only wince, soft moans escaping her lips.

Then from one second to another the pain was gone. The Dark Lord had lifted the curse and Cersei staggered backwards, feeling the table behind her. She instantly moved her arms to her sides, her hands reaching for the edge of the table for support. Preventing her from falling to the ground.

Cersei had experienced the Cruciatus Curse before. During her training with her father. She was taught to withstand and endure the pain. To welcome and embrace it. It had been a lecture to bear the magical arts of torture. But this was something else. She had never experienced this level of suffering before. And the worst thing was that Lord Voldemort was indeed capable to prolong the curse's effects. Something that she had thought impossible.

Her tired eyes stared into dark pools of crimson red that studied her with mild curiosity.

The blond woman hoped he would stay away from her. _Don't come any closer._ She thought desperately while slowly catching her breath. Another torture curse and she wasn't sure if she could stop herself from falling to the floor. The last thing she wanted to experience was to be the first Lannister helplessly cringing at Voldemort's feet. To be completely and utterly at his mercy.

Her father would surely kill her if she would show any weakness now. It would bring shame to their family's name.

All her thoughts were interrupted by his low hissed voice. "It is not over, my dear. We are not finished _yet_."

"Why?" Cersei wanted to know, realizing that speaking tore her throat as though she had coughed splinters of dragon glass. She immediately winced, gritted her teeth and tried again, "Why... have you done this?"

He gave her a cruel smile. "_Why_? To discipline you, Cersei. _No one_ defies Lord Voldemort!"

Voldemort came closer until he was only mere inches away. One hand held his wand elegantly while the other gently stroked her long blond hair.

He held his yew wand above his head, like the swift motion of a snake ready to strike.

"Down!" he hissed impatiently and Cersei felt an invisible hand pushing and pinning her down to the table.

He bent down, his pale snake-like nose barely touching her cheek. She heard him inhaling the air deeply, his voice a quiet whisper again. "Ah, I can smell your fear. Intoxicating."

His red eyes were now filling her vision and she was unable to avert his gaze. Another soft whisper and Cersei was once more swallowed by pure agony again. The pain coming in waves, crackling so hot she thought her whole body was on fire. Even if she tried to hold her mind outside the pain, it eroded her mental shields with the persistence of waves crushing against a cliff. It battered down her defensive walls, slashing into everything which stood in its path. She felt the intense agony gather like a wild hurricane, pushing her to the uttermost limits of her tolerance. And just when she thought that the ripples of pain had subsided, it hit her again with all its might. The only thing she concentrated on were his red eyes. Those glowing eyes were the center of the storm. She fixed solely on his eyes as if it were the only thing that kept her from losing her consciousness. The only constant she could rely on in this chaotic whirlwind of pain.

It ended and Cersei felt her body trembling and shaking uncontrollably, the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse still causing her to flinch in pain.

"Intriguing." he murmured, his cold long hand travelling along her cheek and touching her hot, feverish skin, sending chills down her spine.

Cersei's eyes never left his. She knew if she would be the one to break eye-contact now it would imply weakness.

_Go on now. Cast another Cruciatus Curse upon me. I don't care. I will not give you the pleasure to hear me begging you for mercy. Oh no. I am Cersei of House Lannister, a lion of Casterly Rock. Trueborn daughter of Tywin Lannister. You will not hear me scream._ She told herself.

Voldemort chuckled. "Oh, my sweet lioness. You _are_ truly a lioness, are you not? I'm sure Gryffindor would've welcomed you with open arms in their midst. But...", he moved his wand to her shoulder, the golden threads of her lions slowly transforming into the shapes of a snake, a mocking smile on his lips, "the snake suits you far better, my dear. It is what you really are."

Cersei clenched her teeth as she felt the suffering of her pride. This symbolic gesture was far more insulting to her than any word could ever be.

"You'll be delighted to hear that I've changed my mind.", she heard him continue, "Your son may remain at Casterly Rock. I've decided that I shall keep you in his stead."

Cersei wanted to laugh bitterly. The prospect of staying with this madman left her with a feeling of dread. She had her father to thank for this mess and wanted to scream out loud in frustration.

"Now, now, my little lioness. No need to bare your fangs. You got what you wished for? Did you not?", he asked her teasingly.

The woman grimaced and gave him a weak smile, "I did and I shall not forget Mylord's kindness."

Cersei didn't know if she just saw a hint of approval on his serpentine features. Almost carefully he offered her his hands and helped her getting up from the table. Her body felt very tired and she was surprised herself that she somehow managed to stand on her shaky legs.

"You will soon learn that Lord Voldemort can be generous. All I demand from you is your obedience, Cersei."

_Tell him what he wants to hear and my Joff will be safe. That is all that matters_. She gave him a slight nod. "I am yours, Mylord."

"Good.", he hissed. "Now, give me your left arm.", he demanded in a commanding tone.

She gulped, "My-my arm, Mylord? Why?"

Voldemort raised his wand, "You shall have the great honor to receive my Dark Mark today."

"Never!", she cried "You will not place your Mark on me! This was not part of our agreement!"

"You're mine now, my dear. And I shall now mark you as mine.", he said amused as he watched her display of anger.

Cersei had enough. She wouldn't tolerate to suffer any more humiliation at his hands and took out her wand. But instead of pointing it at him, she pointed it at herself.

Her voice perfectly calm with determination. "I'd rather kill myself than allowing you to taint my body with your ridiculous mark."

She could see that Voldemort has lost the amusement in his face. It was replaced by a sudden alertness. He could see that she was serious. That she was playing no games and truly meant it.

"You stupid woman.", he began, a menacing tone filling his voice, "Haven't I told you this before? You shall _not_ defy Lord Voldemort! Release your wand immediately! I command you!"

She shook her head, a bitter laugh burst from her lips, "You don't command a lion of Casterly Rock! The lion won't take orders from a snake, and a half-blood at that!"

Before she could react she saw him flashing his wand at her, his spell disarming her in the blink of an eye.

His eyes glared at her, glowing like hot coals in the fire, "Such a foolish attempt, my dear. I am disappointed. _Very_ disappointed."

Voldemort swiftly moved towards her, floating on the marble floor with the elegance of a dancer, his naked feet making no sounds. She could only stand there in shock. Helpless and unable to move. Feeling like prey getting encircled by a predator, waiting for the inevitable.

He now stood before her, his cloak swirling around him like a misty shadow.

"I should kill you for your insolence, girl.", he said in a menacing tone.

The dark wizard took a long breath as if to regain his calmness and went on, "But I won't let you get away so easily, my dear. I shall make you _mine_. Break you if need be. It doesn't matter, in the end you _will_ be _mine_."

"You will _never_ have me.", she breathed softly, giving him a taunting smile.

"You don't know what Lord Voldemort is capable of. But you shall soon learn. Like the rest of your family." He seized her arm and held it in a firm grip. He slowly lifted it despite her weak efforts to break away from him.

The tip of his yew wand removed her sleeve, exposing her smooth skin, white as cream.

Cersei blinked at him in horror. "No, you won't!"

Voldemort gave a low chuckle. "Oh, I will, my dear. But not here, not now. You shall receive my Mark in a great Initiation ceremony. Tomorrow night all of my loyal followers shall witness the lion's submission."

"You can't! My father won't allow it!", she snapped at him furiously.

"Tywin Lannister is not here, my dear. No one will save you now." She flinched instantly as one hand reached out to her, ice-cold fingertips softly caressing her cheek. "Ah, but don't despair, my sweet, beautiful lioness. I shall not abandon you."

* * *

><p>Tune in next time when Harry Potter meets Tyrion Lannister and Cersei attends an Initiation ceremony. Read &amp; Review please ;)<p> 


	3. The little lion

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, i don't own anything and i'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

Author's Note: the chapter got a bit too long so i've decided to split it, so here's the first part.

The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 2: The little lion~

It was late in the afternoon when they all met in his father's solar. Tywin's private chamber was located at the highest point of Casterly Rock's castle. If you would look out of the window, you'd see the dark blue ocean rumbling beneath you, waves throwing up tall plumes of spray as they crash against the giant rock. And the feeling of a fresh salt breeze brushing against your face.

But right now no one in the room cared to enjoy the spectacular view. Jaime stood at the small wooden table, arms folded across his chest, studying his father's face closely. Tywin Lannister sat at his usual seat, his fingers folded under his chin. His eyes were a pale green flecked with gold, silently staring at everyone, unblinking. Jaime knew this familiar stance all too well. Lord Tywin preferred to quietly listen to every thought and opinion before he decided to speak himself.

But Jaime had the feeling, that beneath his father's calm demeanor, something was stirring. Tywin Lannister was too silent for his taste. Even his glass of red wine had remained untouched.

He glanced at Lord Petyr Baelish. The small man with threads of silver in his dark brown hair gave him a thin smile. "Our negotiations were a success, my lord. We have our alliance."

But Jaime didn't want to celebrate now. He sighed and took the paper from the table, held it up for all to see. He had to resist the urge to pull the yellowish parchment to pieces.

"We lost my sister for _what_?", he asked, a sharp tone in his voice as he continued, "For _this_? _A tiny piece of paper_?"

The small lord shrugged while his fingers lazily played with his mockingbird brooch that fastened his cloak. "This is not just an ordinary piece of paper, ser. This document seals the alliance with You-Know-Who."

He laughed dryly. "Afraid to say _his_ name, are you, Lord Baelish? Let me hear you say it. Go on."

Lord Baelish gulped. "The alliance with Lord _Voldemort_. Ser."

"Good.", Jaime said. "We are in Casterly Rock and we do not fear a name. You would do well to remember that."

"Yes, I won't forget." The council member said and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Jaime noticed a movement in the corner of the room. It was the Spider, Lord Tywin's spymaster. A plump, bald man dressed in a loose robe of velvet silk. The air around him was thick with sweet, flowery perfume as he stepped out of the shadows. "I wonder, Lord Baelish.", Varys began. "Where were you exactly when these conversations took place between our dear lady and the Dark Lord?"

Baelish was known to be quick with words. Always with a sly smile playing around his lips. But now he seemed to be at a loss for words. "The Dark Lord had wished to speak with Lady Cersei alone. And she had made it clear that she didn't need me."

"You were chosen to assist her. And yet you didn't feel the need to protest against the Dark Lord's wishes? To help our sweet lady?", Varys asked with great solicitude, bending down to look at him.

"As I've said before, I couldn't do anything.", Baelish countered, slightly annoyed to be challenged by the eunuch.

"And besides, Lord Varys, what about you? You always know everything and see everything. Surely you could have warned Lady Cersei what the Dark Lord had planned for her."

The bald eunuch shrugged, smiling sadly. "My little birds are everywhere, true. But I'm afraid, even I can't say for sure what is going on in the Dark Lord's mind. He is and still remains unpredictable."

"Your birds' precious whispers are not helpful at all, my old friend. Maybe we should find another master of whisperers for our small council." Lord Baelish suggested with a mischievous smile.

Varys made a _tsk_ing sound. "My sweet, dear Petyr, surely you are expendable as well. Your surpassing cleverness didn't help our lady at all."

_Great, now they are quarrelling again like two silly washerwomen. _he thought irritated.

Jaime had enough of this. To find someone to blame for Cersei's absence wouldn't get them anywhere. He shot them a cold glare. "Instead of thinking how this could have been prevented we should discuss what to do next. I won't sit here and do nothing while my sister is being held captive as Voldemort's hostage."

"Indeed, good ser. But we shouldn't forget that your sweet sister is a valuable hostage. She is Lord Voldemort's safeguard against betrayal. Surely he will keep her safe. I seriously doubt the Dark Lord intends to bring the wrath of House Lannister upon him." Varys giggled. "His reign over magical Britain would be a short one, then."

"Keep her _safe_, you say? _You_ of all people?", Jaime asked him and went on. "Haven't your little birds told you that the Death Eaters use the ground level of their Manor as a prison and torture chamber? This doesn't sound reassuring to me."

"Yes, my lord. But they primarily use it for muggle-torture.", the Spider pointed out. "And Lady Cersei is a pure-blood. I can assure you she is perfectly safe there."

_My sister is not a muggle, my brother is. But that's a different story_., he thought.

Lord Baelish gave him a shrewd smile. "Our dear lady was chosen by the Dark Lord himself, to become his newest Death Eater. Don't you see? This surprising turn of events offers us a great opportunity. She will be in a position where she can easily gain his trust. Voldemort thinks he holds the lion by its tail. But in the end it will be the lion that sinks his claws into the snake's flesh."

Sometimes Jaime forgot that his father's council was like a viper's nest. All this scheming and backstabbing, he detested it. _Give me a sword and an honourable foe anyday but seven hells, not these men. _

Jaime took all his courage and adressed his lord father. "Father? What do you say?"

His father stared at him, his pale eyes shining like molten gold in the candlelight. "Get out, all of you!"

When Jaime wanted to follow the other two men to the door, he heard Tywin's voice behind him. "Not you. _You_ will stay."

Jaime sighed and returned to the same spot where he stood before. "So, what is our plan? Do we call our banners and move against Lord Voldemort?"

"No, the lion will wait in the grass for the other one to move."

"We_ wait_?", he asked unbelievingly. "That cursed snake holds my sister!"

"Yes, but our hands are tied because he has the right to do so. Your sister has agreed to his terms. As a Lannister she has to keep her word. And we know that Voldemort will keep his promise as well. And if this Dark Lord decides to play us false...", he curled his hand into a fist and his voice was colder than ice. "Then they will sing a song about him. A different rendition of the Rains of Castamere."

Hearing his father mention the title of that song did send chills down his spine.

_The Rains of Castamere... A song about my father and how he dealt with the betrayal of a minor house. The rebels were all exterminated. A Lannister keeps his word and pays his debts. It has always been this way._

"Yes, but still... We can't just leave her there." he insisted.

But Tywin didn't seem to change his mind. "Your sister is a clever girl, son. She will deal with this matter alone. There is no need to worry yourself."

"I still don't like it."

His father raised his eyebrows. "I hope, you're not thinking of doing anything stupid."

Jaime gave him an innocent smile. "Me? I wouldn't do anything. How could you ever think that?"

"Unlike your brother, you always act impulsively. You must learn to keep your emotions in check."

The young man hated it to be lectured by his father. And he disliked it even more that Tywin didn't want to help his twin-sister. His other half. How could he live without her? He wasn't whole when she wasn't with him. It felt like something important was missing. He had decided that he wouldn't leave her alone to her fate. As her brother it was his duty to protect her and to bring her back to Casterly Rock..

_Father can say what he wants. I don't care about his rigid family views. I will safe you, sweet sister._

The knight knew he had to be very careful now and quickly changed the topic. "Speaking of Tyrion. Do you believe the rumours that he has joined the Order of the Phoenix?"

Tywin glanced at the windows and stood up. "Varys has confirmed that your brother is with them. I don't know what this little creature is planning. But it doesn't matter, his actions will have consequences."

"Tyrion is still a Lannister. He will never betray his family." Jaime reminded him.

"Regardless what his intentions are, he will have to answer for this folly. As long as he stays with the Order, he acts against our House. I won't tolerate this."

_My poor, poor brother. He's an expert getting himself into trouble._ He thought.

He tried to defend his brother, hoping his father wouldn't be too hard on him."I'm sure Tyrion knows what he's doing, father. You shouldn't judge him yet."

"I've grown tired of your brother, son. The seven gods condemned me to see that dwarf walking around, wearing our proud sigil and constantly bringing dishonour to our House. If he can't talk his way out of this one, I will order him to take the black."

To take the black. That meant to join the Night's Watch in the far north and to guard a gigantic ice wall against white walkers, grumkins, snarks and whatnot. A severe punishment which his brother didn't deserve. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"I have to think of our family and the honour of our House first and foremost. There will come a day when all of us will be dead. Every single one of us a cold body rotting in the ground. The only thing that will live on is our family name. It is the most important thing. The _family_. Do you understand?", he asked, his green-gold eyes luminous in the shadows.

He cleared his throat. "I understand, father."

"Good, and now go."

As Jaime left he reflected on his father's words. He didn't share his views that the family name had the highest priority. For Jaime it was the family itself. His brother was important to him. And his sister.

_Gods forgive me. I'm going to do a foolish thing again. Father won't understand this but I don't care. These are the things I do for love._

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

There was a sense of excitement in the air, as Harry Potter stood in the gloomy hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place. The young wizard and his two friends waited in front of the doors to the Order's meeting room, trying to listen to the discussion that was taking place inside. He didn't really know what was going on here. His godfather, Sirius Black was running through the corridor in a hurry, telling him that he should go upstairs. The other members of the Order didn't seem to have time to explain anything either.

Once again, Harry had the feeling to be left out. That the adults kept to themselves and didn't want to entrust him with their secrets.

It was frustrating. Yes, he was just 16 years old but after all the things he went through in his life, he didn't feel like a little kid anymore and he disliked it to still be treated like one. Why couldn't they understand this?

His two best friends, Hermione and Ron stood at his side. Their nervousness clearly visible on their faces.

"It seems they have guests. New recruits to join the Order." Hermione suggested after hearing bits of the conversation.

"Do you know who it is?" Harry asked her curiously.

"No, but whoever it is, it must be someone important.", she guessed.

"Perhaps someone from the Ministry of Magic?", Ron asked.

Harry shrugged and sighed. "Who knows."

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Well, whoever it is, a new recruit can't be a bad thing, right?"

Harry nodded. She was right. There was no need to feel anxious. After Voldemort's return he thought he saw glimpses of his shadow looming around every corner. And everyone he met on the streets could be a potential enemy, a Death Eater in disguise. But these were the Order's headquarters. No harm would come to him here.

The voices were getting louder now and Harry could hear every spoken word.

"Why should we trust you, Lannister? And why do you want to see the boy so badly?" That was the voice of Sirius Black.

Then there was another voice, calm and deep. "Why should you trust me, you ask? I will give you my word on my honour as a Lannister. As for the boy, it is of great importance that you allow me to talk to him."

A loud muttering filled the room once more and he couldn't understand anything anymore.

Hermione looked at her two friends with wide eyes. "Did you hear what that man just said? He said _Lannister_. Lannister is one of the seven great houses."

"The seven great houses?", he asked her.

"Yes, there are seven great houses in the world. They are important pure-blood families and their history goes way back to the middle-ages."

She started to count with her fingers. "There's House Lannister, House Baratheon, House Stark, House Tyrell, House Arryn, House Martell and House Greyjoy. And then there's another family, House Targaryen. But the last of the Targaryens live in exile, as far as I know."

Ron looked surprised. "So, the guy inside there... He's a _real_ Lannister? A member of this great house?"

"That seems to be the case, yes.", she confirmed.

Harry didn't know what to make of this new information. "So, what's so special about those houses?"

Hermione looked excited as if she had just discovered a new book she hadn't read before. "These great houses are very rich and very powerful. The members of their families are known to be skilled and talented wizards. But the thing is, you wouldn't see them walking around here. They stay at their castles and keep to themselves. Even during the first wizarding war, no one showed up or lifted a finger. The presence of a Lannister can only mean one thing. They want to join us to fight against You-Know-Who."

"So this is really big." Harry concluded.

The girl nodded. "Yeah, I think it is."

Suddenly the wooden doors swung open and wizards and witches were leaving the meeting room. Sirius Black approached him, brushing his long dark hair out of his eyes. "Harry, good, you're still here. There's someone I'd like to introduce to you, come. Your friends may accompany you, if they wish."

Harry felt relieved. Ron and Hermione always gave him strength and confidence.

They entered the big room and Harry found two men sitting at the table. One was very tall, dressed in a kind of worn out, dark brown leather armor. His clothes matched his dark hair and his eyes were light-blue. The other one was a dwarf with mismatched eyes of green and black. He wore a fine red leather coat, the emblem of a golden lion embroidered on his shoulders. The little blond man smiled and waved them closer. "Ah, this must be the famous Harry Potter. I've heard so much about you. And your friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. "

Sirius introduced the two strangers. "This is Lord Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin Lanister. And his companion, Bronn."

Harry shook their hands, "Pleased to meet you, sir... M'lord."

But Lannister just smirked. "A simple Tyrion will suffice for me. No need to be so formal."

He gave him a nod and couldn't help but stare at his strange eyes. One light green, the other one black as onyx. Tyrion winked at Sirius. "I'd like to have a moment with them. It won't take long."

Harry saw Sirius giving him one last glance and leaving them alone, shutting the doors behind him.

"So, you're Lannisters? Both of you?" Harry asked them.

"No, it's only me. Bronn here is a sellsword. My bodyguard, so to speak."

"And I'm still waiting for the gold you promised me, Lannister." Bronn mumbled.

"You shall have it all, my friend. Gold and women. Everything. A Lannister always pays his debts."

"He says that all the time." Bronn commented dryly.

The young wizard smiled. Those two seemed to be good friends and knew each other well.

"You probably have lots of questions, boy. Just ask, I won't bite." The dwarf said, pouring wine in his glass.

"You're a Lannister. From one of the great houses?"

"Ah, you already know about my house?" Tyrion raised an eyebrow.

"I've read about it in a book, _the History of the Seven Great Houses by Maester Malleon_." Hermione said, giving Tyrion a proud smile.

Tyrion raised his glass and took a sip. "Now, there's a clever girl. I'm impressed."

"Are you here to join the Order of the Phoenix?" Harry asked him curiously.

"Sadly, it's only me and my friend Bronn here willing to join you. My dear father has decided to ally himself with the snakes." Tyrion replied with a sour expression on his face.

"Oh." For a moment he was speechless because he had expected something else. Harry exchanged worried looks with his friends.

"But if your father has joined Voldemort, why are you here then?" Ron asked.

"That's a good question, isn't it? Well, I can think of several reasons to join Dumbledore's secret Order. Fame and glory, for one.", he said cheerfully.

"Or this wine here. Elvish wine, a good vintage and it has a very rich taste.", the small man said, swirling the wine in his glass.

"I also enjoy a good company and the Order is full of interesting and fascinating individuals. And beautiful ladies too, I might add.", giving Hermione a wink and she just rolled her eyes in response.

"Another important reason is, that I just want to see the shocked look on my father's and sister's faces. It must be priceless. Well, now that I think about it, I won't be able to see their faces. But trust me, I have a _very_ lively imagination."

Harry frowned. "Don't you like your father? Or your sister?"

Tyrion shrugged. "If you would have the pleasure to meet my family, you wouldn't need to ask. My father hates the simple fact that I exist. Look at me, Harry. Haven't you noticed? I'm a dwarf with short and twisted legs and a head too large for my small body. I'm a disgrace to my noble house. But it's not just my good looks, the seven gods have blessed me with. Oh no. I'm also a muggle, a freak of nature, incapable of using magic. You can probably imagine what this means if you grow up in a family of pure-bloods. My father is so ashamed of me that he kept my non-existent ability to perform magic a secret. And my sweet sister Cersei...", he sighed.

"Oh, she despises me since the day I was born. The only one who feels pity and shows me some sympathy and love is my brother Jaime. I've been living _a very sad life_."

"I hope you're not going to cry now, half-man." Bronn murmured.

"You won't see a Lannister cry, my friend. A little lion such as me roars, though I doubt my roar would be awe-inspiring, "

Harry looked at him with interest. "So you just want to join the Order to get back at your family?"

Tyrion's smile disappeared and was replaced by a serious expression on his face. "You mistake me, Harry. As much as I hate my lovely family, I would never try to repay their _affection_. All the seven gods curse the man who slays his own kin. It is known."

He took another sip of his wine and continued. "I must confess, there is another reason why i'm here today and why I wanted to see this famous _Boy-Who-Survived_. And it has nothing to do with my family, i'm afraid."

Harry gulped. A feeling of uneasiness washing over him. "Is it about, well... You-Know-Who?"

"Yes, you can say that there's definitely a connection. But I shall explain this further."

Tyrion took another swallow of his wine and began. "So, me and my friend Bronn here were visiting that cosy little pub at Diagon Alley. Which pub was it again, Bronn? My memory of that evening is a bit fuzzy."

The sellsword snorted. "Can't remember it either, Imp. Was too drunk thanks to your stupid drinking games."

Tyrion glanced at his companion. "I thought it was _your_ drinking game?"

"No, I only play the Braavosi games where you cut off your fingers if you lose."

The small man shrugged. "Those are nasty games."

"I like them."

Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes and Harry coughed, to get back their attention. "So, you were at some pub. And?"

"Aye, the pub. We were drinking ale, wine and all this other good stuff, and then there was this beautiful woman with long red hair." Tyrion recalled.

"Not my type, really." Bronn said.

Tyrion grinned. "Who asked you, Bronn? And besides, regarding your _fine_ taste you probably prefer men."

"Shut up, dwarf."

Tyrion gave them a crooked smile, pointing a finger at the sellsword beside him. "See, he_ likes_ me."

"You've met a woman at the pub. What about her?" Harry wanted to know.

Tyrion smiled enigmatically. "Now, here comes the interesting part. That woman's name is Melisandre and she claims to be a red priestess of Asshai. She said that it's my destiny to join the Order of the Phoenix and to help a young wizard named Harry Potter. There was talk that she saw everything in the flames and that assisting you will be crucial to win the wizarding war. I first thought she was mentally ill. A serious case for St Mungo's Hospital if you ask me. But she knew all about me and that my family has joined You-Know-Who's forces. Her beauty as well as her detailed explanations were reason enough to convince me. And so here I am." The small man inclined his head. "Tyrion Lannister, at your service and joining the Order of the Phoenix under the guidance of a mysterious red priestess, fighting against You-Know-Who, Death Eaters, my dear father and everyone else who holds a grudge against the charming little dwarf that is me. Oh, I can already feel the excitement now."

They all burst out in laughter. Harry was glad that he and his friends could still have moments like these. And it was thanks to Tyrion Lannister who could easily lighten the mood.

Harry looked around, wondering if this strange woman was nearby. "This priestess, Melisandre? Is she also here with you?"

"No, I don't know where she is right now. She seems to come and go as she pleases but i'm certain she'll contact you soon." Lannister assured him.

"How will I know that it is really her when I meet her?" Harry asked, uncertainty in his voice.

Tyrion and Bronn exchanged amused glances and he added, "Oh, you will know. She's dressed in red, red hair, red jewels, red eyes, you can't confuse her with someone else."

Ron grimaced. "Red eyes? I hope she's not related to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named..."

Tyrion chuckled. "I think not. She doesn't resemble a snake at all."

Hermione gave Tyrion a questioning look. "One more thing. If your family has joined Voldemort... Can't we convince the other great houses to join us?"

Tyrion narrowed his eyes. "Well, you can send out ravens or owls and hope that they answer your calls. But I seriously doubt that. The Lannisters are the only family who have their seat here in Britain. My father knew that one day he would have to choose a side. That he can't stay in the shadows if You-Know-Who takes over the Ministry of Magic. He had to act immediately. But the other houses... They are far away from the war zone and they are not threatened by Voldemort yet. You can compare the high lords of those great houses to chess players. They will only move their pieces when their opponent pressures them."

The girl sighed. "By Merlin's beard, this is unbelievable! If we lose the wizarding war, Voldemort will also attack the other countries. Surely they can't be blind, they must realise the danger we are all in!"

"I'm truly sorry, young lady. This is how it has always been when these high lords and ladies play their power games." Tyrion said.

"I can't understand it.", she murmured.

Harry gave her back a pat. "We can still try to send out messages as Tyrion suggested. Maybe someone will heed our call."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, let's hope someone does."

Tyrion gave them an encouraging smile, "Have no fear, my friends. I shall serve you well with my tongue. I can tell you how my father thinks, or my sweet sister. I know all there is to know about all the lords and ladies. Who is brave or who is craven. My little head contains a vast amount of knowledge and wisdom. I've read all the books of father's library and even if I can't use magic, I still know all the spells and curses. Consider me your loyal ally and favourite dwarf."


	4. The Dark Mark

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, i don't own anything and i'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

Author's Note: thanks so much for the review. This chapter will answer some questions regarding Robert. As for Joffrey, I don't want to reveal too much but he will appear in later chapters. And Tyrion meeting Crookshanks is a good idea, I haven't thought about that. Thanks again ;)

The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 3: The Dark Mark~

It was late at night as a tall cloaked figure entered her bedchamber, a shadow moving gracefully in the dark. His gleaming red eyes scanned the room, searching for his target, his prey. The Dark Lord could see everything clearly as if his surroundings were flooded with the brightest sunlight. His ability to use night-vision always served him finally found her sleeping form covered by heavy blankets. Her eyes were closed, her breathing was steady and slow, assuring him that the young woman was fast asleep. He took a few steps forward and carefully sat next to her. His skeletal hand reached out, pausing in the air, his claw-like fingers hovering dangerously above her throat, as if to be about to strangle her. His white fingers were almost touching her skin as he was calmly contemplating his urge to kill her. But he quickly decided against that. Spilling her pure blood would be such a waste. Yes, she had defied him this day. Those fiery eyes of hers never leaving his, unwavering and unyielding. It had been this one crucial moment where he had truly wanted to kill her.

But those eyes...

He couldn't help but admire her strength, her stubbornness. Even in the face of death. It was this one moment where he came to a final decision. She would live. And not just that. There was this longing feeling inside him. He didn't quite understand it himself but he wanted her. To own her, to possess her, to make her his.

She would prove to be an interesting challenge, he could already foresee that. Her foolish pride as a Lannister would interfere with his plans, complicate them. Voldemort could see the influence her father held over her and knew it would be difficult to break these strong family bonds. But he welcomed this challenge, he was looking forward to it.

His Death Eaters were no longer enough to entertain him. They shivered in fear, falling on their knees, averting his gaze to hide their own weakness. He still played his games with them, testing the boundaries of their anguish and how far their dedication really went. But he soon grew tired of them. Just like his prisoners rotting in the dungeons. They could only provide a few minutes of satisfaction, never lasting long. Like toys they were too easily broken. No one dared to challenge him, except his enemies. Except her.

Nothing would please him more than to see that fiery green wildfire leaving her eyes. To watch her succumb and finally surrender to him. He placed his cold palm on her cheek, feeling the warmth of her soft skin. A shiver of excitement went through him, just at the thought of all the the numerous possibilities playing inside his mind. The things he would do to her, the ways he could harm and torture her.

A soft whisper left his thin lips, words hissed in Parseltongue. "_Sweet dreams, my dear Cersei._"

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

_Darkness... without earth or sky. The darkness engulfed her. It was deeper than the depths of night. Yet far off in that blackness there was a reddish glare. A pair of crimson eyes. His eyes. Even at this distance, she could see his eyes watching her in silent anticipation as a huge green serpent slowly emerged from the shadows. It was his familiar. His snake. _

_It coiled upwards, spiralled around her legs, moving closer and closer. And all Cersei could do was stare. Why couldn't she move? Save herself and run away? His snake would surely kill her. It would bite her with its poisoned fangs. Eat her alive. But she just stood there frozen in place, paralysed. _

_There was nowhere to run. No way to fight. _

_The fear roiling inside her felt as if it might burst through her skin. Only then did she realize she was naked. She gasped in horror as the snake bit into her soft flesh, drops of warm red blood running down her legs. The more she struggled, the more the snake twisted around her body, tightening her hold. She heard her heartbeat surge in her ears. With every passing second, it became harder and harder to breathe. It felt like all her blood in her body was flowing backward. She was dizzy and sick with the knowledge that she was about to die. Cersei wanted to scream but no sound escaped her lips._

Out of nowhere a hand appeared, shaking her by the shoulder. "My lady, my lady!"

Cersei shot up in bed, cold sweat beaded at her temples and stung her eyes. She blinked a few times, still afraid that the hand might be a part of her nightmare but it was just a house elf standing beside her bed with a worried expression on its face, big grey eyes staring down at her. "Tabby heard my lady screaming. Is M'lady alright?"

_Where am I? Where is Jaime? My twin should be the one to wake me._ _Not this disgusting elf!_ She thought angrily.

The bedchamber was dark, thick curtains blocked the light. Beautiful tapestries with interlaced ornaments covered the walls and the rich furniture hinted at the unmistakable sign of the Malfoy family's wealth. Her body felt heavy and tired. When she lifted her hands to push back her sleep-tousled hair, she felt resistance as if moving through thick liquid. Goose bumps crawled across her flesh, but she ignored the sudden chill. "I don't need your help, elf. Leave me alone!", she said, her voice loud and filled with anger.

But the elf just stood there like a statue, little hands holding on to its dirty rags and shaking its head. "Tabby is not allowed to leave my lady's side. Tabby must help M'lady prepare for the great ceremony for the Dark Master."

The young woman sighed. She disliked house elves and preferred her personal hand-maidens to help her with everything. But this was Malfoy Manor and not Casterly Rock. She had to adapt to the circumstances staying in another environment.

"Tell me, elf. Do you have potions for Dreamless Sleep?", she asked the creature and already missed Grand Maester Pycelle. The old man in father's service was slow and forgetful but at least he had all the potions she wanted or needed at hand.

The little elf gave her an apologetic look . "Tabby knows Master has all the potions. But Tabby is not allowed to give it to my lady. Tabby is so very, very sorry."

_Seven hells, this elf is completely useless!_

"Bring me my bedrobe, then." Cersei demanded, standing up and feeling the blue robe slip over her shoulders, covering her nakedness.

The woman made her way to the small bath room, the soles of her bare feet slapped softly against the cold surface of the black tiled floor. A look into the mirror assured her that she hadn't changed at all. Her curly golden hair was still long and lustrous, her skin still smooth and perfect. Her robe glided to the ground as she stepped into the shower. Hot water washed over her, cleansing her, the stiffness and fatigue slowly leaving her body. The fragrance of lavender and honeyed perfume filled the steamy air. She inhaled deeply to savour the sweet scents.

_It was only a dream. Nothing more, nothing less. It has no meaning._ She told herself despite the feeling of mental and physical exhaustion. As if this nightmare had somehow drained all her energies.

The blond woman left the bath with a towel wrapped around her slender body and was greeted by a man, she had least expected to meet here.

"My sweet lady, I am _so pleased_ to see you." Varys gushed.

"Lord Varys, you startled me. From which tiny hole have you emerged from?"

The Spider stood at the window, daylight behind his back, the smell of lilacs surrounding him. He was dressed in extravagant robes of dark-green brocade, giving her a soft smile. "Please forgive my intrusion, my lady. I've used the secret passageways beneath these grounds to get to you. I had to take this precaution, your lord father insisted that no one shall eavesdrop on our conversation."

She looked around, hoping to discover a hidden door but found nothing. "I wonder, if you could show me this secret passage by any chance? Just in case I might need it."

"Ah, it truly grieves me to say, but I can't, my lady. The knowledge of these secrets has passed from one whisperer to the next and revealing my precious secrets to you...", he shrugged, showing her a sad smile "Well, let me say the day I lose my secrets and with it my usefulness, will be the day I lose my head. And who would mourn poor Varys then?"

Cersei shot him a cold glare. "I should have known you wouldn't give away your dirty little secrets. But enough of this. Tell me, why has my father send you?"

The bald man's soft features changed to a solemn expression, his voice thin and sharp now. "I will not keep you long. That little elf will be back soon and it's best that no one shall see us speaking in private. I have to warn you to remain cautious while staying here. Everyone knows the Dark Lord is utterly without mercy. One wrong move or one wrong word and you might find yourself in one of his dreadful prison cells."

"I'm aware of it, Lord Varys. I've already experienced the Dark Lord's anger myself, I will be careful." She assured him.

The eunuch spread his powdered hands. "I pray to the seven gods that you are, my lady. Your twin-brother is very worried about you. As is your father, although he doesn't seem to show it openly. Nevertheless, the council is very pleased that you succeeded to form the alliance with the Dark Lord. Your father asks you to stay at Voldemort's side from now on. Gain his trust and confidence and we shall have a valuable source inside his inner circle."

Cersei knew what this meant. She would stay at Malfoy Manor, serve the Dark Lord and bide her time. A simple strategy but still a very effective one. It wouldn't help her to struggle against him. She would play the role of the obedient captive and face the Dark Lord with her chin held high. A lioness must show no fear. She gave him a thin smile. "You make it sound so easy but it's a difficult task. Voldemort is not someone you can fool so easily."

A wicked smile played around his lips. "Indeed, but I'm sure you do know _certain ways_ to persuade our dark wizard to trust you, do you not? And have no fear, my lady. If the situation should get perilous, I can still arrange a plan to keep you out of harm's way."

"Then let us hope that I don't fail. To tell you truly, I don't want to rely on you, Varys._ I don't trust you_." She said dryly.

Varys looked hurt. "So sad, you wound my feelings, sweet lady. Why is it that no one seems to trust the Spider?"

_Because the day I trust you will be the day I dig my own grave._ She thought grimly, giving him a wary smile. "These are dangerous times. Surely you understand this."

He bowed deeply. "Indeed, I do. You are very wise, my lady. My birds will whisper to me and I shall assist you in any possible way I can. We will meet again soon."

_I don't doubt that. In other words you're just spying on me under the orders of my dear father, watching and reporting my progress to him._

The spymaster turned to leave but stopped, giving her one last glance. "Ah, I almost forgot. You asked for Dreamless Sleep potion. I will take a few bottles with me the next time I come here."

Cersei was speechless. "How did you know? You weren't here."

"Knowledge is my trade. But may I inquire why you _need_ these potions?" he asked her.

"Bad dreams, Lord Varys. Bad dreams." she murmured.

He bowed again. "I see. Farewell, my lady." The man walked through the wall, his body vanishing into thin air. Then just a few minutes later there was a loud crack. The annoying elf Apparated and had returned to her again. The creature brought her a polished silver bracelet. It had the shape of a small snake, coiling around her arm.

"A gift from the Master. Mistress must wear it for the ceremony." The elf insisted.

The metal clasp made a soft clicking sound as the bracelet closed around her wrist. She eyed Voldemort's gift suspiciously. It reminded her of that strange nightmare and she didn't like that gut feeling, sensing that there had to be a connection between her dream and the Dark Lord.

She tried to push her feelings to the back of her mind and found distraction while choosing her dress for this special evening. Tabby helped her into her gown. It was shimmering satin in the colours of House Lannister, burgundy red and gold, and an intricate black lace above the bodice. The gown was costly but Cersei knew that a lady of her House should look her best at all times. She fixed her long blond hair herself and told the elf to get her escort.

One of Voldemort's followers opened the door and introduced himself as Serverus Snape. The man wore the familiar black robes of a Death Eater. His black hair was greasy, a hooked nose prominent on his facial features."Ah, the Potions Professor from Hogwarts. And the Dark Lord's spy.", she added unimpressed.

Snape gave her a stiff bow, his black eyes regarding her with mild curiosity. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady. I hope your son decides to attend our school of witchcraft and wizardry. Hogwarts would feel honoured to welcome such a promising student from one of the great houses."

Cersei frowned. "My son will stay at Casterly Rock, Professor. It is the wish of my father Tywin to tutor Joffrey himself."

"Such a pity.", Snape sneered in a cool tone, taking a quick step to lead the way in front of her. Soon she would be a Death Eater herself and it left her with a feeling of insecurity. What would it be like to be his Death Eater? And how would it change and affect her future life? Or the life of her family?

Would Lord Voldemort give her the permission to return to her family? Would she see her brother Jaime again? Or her son Joff? Would he send her on missions like his other servants or would he keep her close? All these questions were swirling in her thoughts, never leaving her mind completely.

_'I shall make you mine.' _His words from their last encounter still haunted her. His Dark Mark would be a symbol of his ownership over her. She wondered if it was possible to remove this mark. _There must be a way._ _And I will find a way. The only symbol I shall choose is a lion, not a snake._

After walking through a large hall they entered a ballroom. She liked the interior design of the room. It was decorated with exquisite victorian furniture and a dark red carpet on the marble floor. Many candles offered light and warmth and Cersei's eyes needed a moment to adjust to the dimness. She saw black-cloaked figures entering the room from both sides. Narcissa Malfoy approached her, greeting her with a weak smile. "Lady Cersei, I hope your chambers met your satisfaction."

Cersei inclined her head. "Yes, Lady Narcissa, thank you for your hospitality."

The room was crowded with Death Eaters now. A tall woman with thick, black hair turned to her, red lips curling to a mocking smile.

Cersei eyed the witch and asked, "Who is this woman, Narcissa?"

"My sister, Bellatrix Lestrange.", Lucius' wife replied.

"Lovely, I'm under the impression that your sister doesn't seem to like me." She observed dryly, allowing herself the faintest of smiles.

"Bella rates you as a new potential rival. She fears the Dark Lord might favour you more than her."

"Is that so?" A poisonous sweetness crept into Cersei's tone. "Please tell your sister I have no intention to steal her precious Lord away. Besides, it is known that the Dark Lord is only interested in influence and power, not women."

The other woman grimaced, her face looking pale in the shining candlelight, almost as white as a ghost's. "I fear, my sister is obsessed with our Master. She loves him with an unrivalled passion but I doubt he will ever return her feelings."

Cersei's eyes narrowed. She remembered how it felt like to love someone who didn't love you in return. In her case she had once loved Rhaegar Targaryen. A true prince, one of the last Targaryens with the blood of old Valyria flowing through his veins. The blood of dragons. Images came back to her mind, as if it had happened only yesterday. Prince Rhaegar playing his harp with his elegant fingers, her eyes drowning in his radiant violet eyes. His song was so sad it had brought tears to her eyes.

Months later she heard her father's promise that she would one day marry the prince and become his wife. He was the one and only for her. They were destined to be together. Compared to his otherworldly beauty even her handsome twin Jaime had looked like a mere boy. But then the unbidden memories resurfaced in her inner mind.

A broken promise. Rhaegar marrying another woman, Elia of House Martell. And she was forced to marry Robert Baratheon to unite their two Houses, Lannister and Baratheon. Again one of her father's choices. And it was cruel fate that her husband was the one to slay Rhaegar Targaryen during the rebellion against the dragons. She had never forgiven Robert to rob her of her sweet prince. The love of her life. It was only a cold comfort that she had killed Robert in the end, avenging Rhaegar's death. Robert was known to be a drunk and Cersei thought it only fitting to murder him with poisoned wine.

_I would have killed Robert a thousand times, over and over again, just to bring you back to me, my love. _She knew, she would never love a man like Rhaegar again. The day he left her was the day she lost her love.

_Love... _how she despised this feeling. She couldn't help but feel pity for Narcissa's sister because she could somehow relate to her, understand her feelings.

"Such a poor thing. Love is a sweet poison. And in the end it will kill you all the same." She murmured.

The other woman nodded and they both fell silent as the Dark Lord himself appeared, descending the stairs from above. His loyal Death Eaters were forming a circle in the centre of the ball room. Every face concealed behind a white snake-like mask. As Voldemort entered the circle, his followers approached him on their knees, kissing the hem of his dark robe.

Cersei thought she saw a look of delight on his serpentine features. _The Dark Lord must relish the feeling to be worshipped like a deity._

Voldemort began a captivating speech, speaking passionately about loyalty, devotion, the conquest of Magical Britain and the restoration of the Wizarding world to pure-bloods. During his whole speech she felt his scarlet cat-like eyes upon her. Her green eyes met his, never breaking the eye-contact. No hood concealed his features and for the first time she could see his face clearly. His nose was flat as the nose of a snake, with reptilian slits as nostrils The head was bald and hairless, his skin white as bone, almost translucent.

She couldn't help but feel a strange fascination as she watched him, his dark magic pulsing around him, emanating his coldness.

The speech was over and he waved her closer. "Come forward, Cersei."

The blond-haired woman felt a chill and recognized what she felt as the chill of anticipation. Voldemort tilted his head and waited for her, his wand twirling in his long fingers. She carried her head high as she moved through the Death Eater's circle. When she reached their Master, she smoothly sank to one knee, inclining her head ever so slightly in deference to Lord Voldemort.

It costed her quite an effort to submit to him in this way, in front of all his Death Eaters. She didn't look up but she knew that he was probably smiling triumphantly as he purred, "Good, my dear. But this is not enough."

She grimaced, taking the hem of his robe in her hands and kissing it. Oh, seven gods, how she hated this! And how she hated him! She was glad that he couldn't see her face now, contorted by her anger.

_I'm playing my role to gain his trust and approval but I will never lose my pride as a Lannister._ She reminded herself.

"Rise, my dear." His voice a sibilant hiss.

Cersei stood up, her emerald eyes looking up to him.

The Dark Lord lifted her chin with his pale hand, his gaze studying her thoughtfully. "I was certain you would try to resist me today, Cersei. As much as your submission pleases me I'm still curious, what has changed your mind?"

He had probably sensed her reluctance and she knew he was a skilled Legilimens, feeling him now inside her head, probing her mind, trying to read her thoughts.

_Calm yourself._ She thought, clearing her mind of all emotions that could betray her.

"A lion knows when the right time comes to fight. And _this_ isn't the right time, my lord." she answered truthfully.

He chuckled quietly, seemingly satisfied with her answer and went on. "I hope you have enjoyed my dream last night. I've conjured a special one, just for you."

Cersei had suspected it. The Dark Lord was the source of her nightmare. _He even haunts me in my dreams._ "I remember your dream vividly. You're the only one who can instil this fear in my heart, my lord." she admitted, catching a strange glimmer in eyes.

His spidery fingers began to caress her cheek now, as he announced. "Tonight I will mark you as _my own_. You will become my _Death Eater_, my loyal servant. You will now pledge your loyalty to me and swear to serve me, to obey me, to lay down your life for me if I should wish for it. _Swear it_!"

Cersei knew there was no turning back now and nodded.. "I pledge my loyalty to you, and only you, my lord. From this day forth my life belongs to you." Just saying these words left a bitter taste in her mouth. It felt almost like admitting defeat. Her only comfort was that one day, she would pay him back. _I shall never forget this, my lord. One day you shall be the one to crawl at my feet. A Lannister pays his debts. Always._

She carefully guarded her thoughts as she saw his scarlet eyes glowing in the dim light, an expression of greed on his snake-like face. "Hold out your left arm, my dear."

She did as she was told. His hand held her wrist firmly, his other hand pushing up her sleeve. "This might hurt... _a little_." The tip of his yew wand pressed against the sensitive flesh of her forearm. She had to fight the sudden instinct to move her arm away, trying to stay as calm as possible. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she felt his magic burning into her skin like fire, the air pulsing and sizzling around her with his dark energy.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

Green fire seared her soft white skin, burning his Dark Mark into her arm. Voldemort looked at her possessively. She had accepted his Mark, his right of ownership over her. It was one of his first small victories and it wouldn't be the last. Even during this magical act, he couldn't help but admire her strength. His other Death Eaters always used to scream in pain while they received the Mark but she was remarkably calm. Only a brief flinch as she felt the sudden pain but nothing more.

_Cersei Lannister._ _Now you belong to me, not your family. Me. You are mine._ He thought, smiling in cruel satisfaction.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

It was done. Her eyes stared down at the vivid red tattoo on her arm. A skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. The Dark Mark. It was an awkward sensation on her skin. Warm and tickling, the burning pain slowly subsiding. The Dark Lord leaned down, whispering in her ear. "You're mine now, Cersei. Are you not?"

She instantly shivered, as she felt the cold skin of his cheek lightly touching her own. "I am, my lord.", she assured him.

Lord Voldemort took her arm, presenting the Dark Mark to his followers. "Tonight we welcome a new Death Eater in our circle, Cersei Lannister. She has sworn her loyalty to me and in return I granted her the honour to receive my Mark. I'm sure she will prove herself useful to us."

She felt the eyes of all his servants on her. Some seemed curious, others respectful but she also saw expressions of mistrust and disdain. Especially Bellatrix Lestrange. The dark witch sneered at her, not hiding her obvious contempt for her master's new recruit.

_Stupid woman. Give me that look again and I shall have your tongue ripped out with hot pincers. _She thought and turned to her new master, giving him a soft smile. "My lord, with your permission I'd like to go outside for a moment. I think I need some fresh air."

Red eyes studied her face curiously, his mind searching her feelings. _Is he thinking I'm going to run?_ _Even if I tried he would find me. His Dark Mark binds me to him._ He finally nodded. "Yes, you may go, my dear. But don't take too long. We have much to discuss."

Cersei bowed and went to the next room, finding a balcony. She stepped outside, breathing in the cold air and watching the distant stars in the clear nightsky. The sound of approaching footsteps made her shiver. Was it Lord Voldemort? She didn't want to know and suddenly felt strong arms sliding around her, embracing her body from behind, holding her close.

"Here you are. I've feared I'll never find you in this damn Manor. This thing is like a Maze." That was Jaime's voice. But how could it be?

Her eyes went wide as she turned her head to look at him. Jaime wore a crimson leather coat and high black boots, his blond hair looking dark in the moonlight. "Jaime? What in seven blazing hells are you doing here? Have you lost your mind?"

His head rested on her shoulder as he breathed in her ear. "Why, I'm rescuing the damsel in distress. Isn't that obvious?"

She couldn't believe that he was so reckless again. She gazed at him, a blank look on her face. "_This is folly!_ I can't believe you did that. Do you know where you are? This Manor is crowded with _Death Eaters_. What if someone sees us?"

He touched her face, placing a light kiss on her cheek. "Ssh, calm down, sister. No one is here. What are you worrying about?"

"If he finds us, the Dark Lord...", she grimaced, "He might _kill_ you."

"Not when I _kill _him _first_. I haven't killed a snake yet, I should add that to my list." he said in a casual tone, seemingly unimpressed and went on. "No one shall stand between us. I don't care if it's an army of Death Eaters or the great Lord Voldemort himself. I will _kill_ them. I will kill every single one of them until you and I are the only ones left in this world."

"You're crazy." She whispered.

Her brother just smiled at her. "I'm in love."

Cersei frowned. "I call it madness and stupidity."

Her twin kissed her again, silencing her complaints. "Please don't talk like that.", he murmured between kisses, "You sound like father again."

She pulled away. "Jaime, please. Not here."

He wanted to touch her cheek but Cersei recoiled from his hand. "Don't be stupid. How did you even get here? This Manor is protected by a Barrier Curse."

"Ah, that. I've convinced Varys to show me the way. He was very eager to offer his assistance after I 've pointed my sword at his throat."

"You should get back to that secret passageway. It's too dangerous if you stay here." She told him, hoping he would listen to her.

"I'll only go if you come with me. I won't leave without you." he insisted.

She shook her head, removing her sleeve and revealing the Dark Mark. "I can't. He marked me. Wherever I go he _will _find me."

For a moment he just stood there, staring at the tattoo, his voice a fierce whisper. "Where is he? I swear by the gods I will _kill him_."

"Jaime, you have to go back. Think about my son. Joffrey needs you." she urged, hoping he would listen to reason.

"_Our son_, you mean. He may have Robert's name but he's still _my_ son. I tell you, Joffrey is fine, sister. He's hunting house-elves with his new crossbow."

She gave him a displeased look. "You can't let Joff play with a crossbow. It's too dangerous!"

But her brother smirked. "Dangerous for Joffrey? Or the elves?"

"That's not funny." she said, turning away but his hand snapped out and seized her wrist, not letting her go.

"Come with me." he demanded and before Cersei could reply anything, she heard a familiar cold hiss behind her.

"Your sister will stay here. She's _mine_."

Her twin glared at the two men. Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy stood at the entrance of the balcony, now blocking their path.

Jaime smiled, drawing his sword."Look what we have here. The snakes have come out to play."


	5. Shadow of the Dragon

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 4: Shadow of the Dragon~

The air was sizzling with tension as they stood facing each other. Jaime Lannister wore a confident smirk on his features while Lord Voldemort gazed at him with an annoyed expression on his snake-like face. It was the look he would give an distracting insect, just before he decided to crush it beneath his feet. Jaime couldn't deny that this wizard had a powerful presence. Voldemort was a maelstrom of power, his dark magic saturating him, patiently waiting to be unleashed upon his enemies.

Lucius Malfoy stood beside his master. His wand was shaking in his hand as he stared at the Lannister man, unsure what to do next. It was fairly obvious that he wanted to avoid the upcoming battle, wishing himself somewhere far, far away from here.

_Pathetic._ Jaime thought, giving him a contemptuous smirk. "If you don't want to get butchered I'd advise you to stay out of this, Malfoy. I doubt your wife would relish the sight of your precious pure-blood staining her clean floor."

The wizard gulped and took a few steps backwards, not wanting to get between the two men. Voldemort seemed perfectly calm and gestured to his servant to move away. "Stand back, Lucius. He is _mine_. I shall deal with this young fool _alone_."

_He shows no signs of nervousness or agitation, I shall not underestimate this man. _His mind was already considering every possible strategy to fight against this dark wizard. It would prove to be quite a challenge. There were rumours that Voldemort had achieved immortality and had acquired a vast amount of knowledge of the Dark Arts over the years. Jaime wasn't sure if this would be an even battle. How can you kill someone who can't be killed? What if he possessed magical spells and curses which were impossible to repel? But he quickly pushed all his doubts to the back of his mind. This wasn't the time to have second thoughts. He had to trust in his own abilities and combat skills. To fight him in his own way, to force his fighting-style upon him. This was the only chance he had.

Jaime watched the silver-haired wizard moving behind his master now and at the same time he positioned himself in front of his sister. Her safety was what mattered the most to him. If it would be necessary to shield her with his own body, he wouldn't hesitate to do it. Besides, he couldn't allow her to join the duel. It was too risky. Cersei was powerless without her wand and she had only little experience in wandless magic. She would be of no help to him.

The young lion took a deep breath, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. It was an exceptional weapon. A gift from his father. The blade was Valyrian steel. A very rare metal which was scarce and costly nowadays. There were only a handful of people in this world who owned Valyrian steel blades. Tywin had asked his blacksmith to forge this blade. Hundreds of ancient spells were cast to infuse magic into the metal. You could feel the vibrant energy residing in the blade, almost making it a living thing. Jaime loved the blade's radiant colours, a pattern of waves of dark obsidian and red blood. A combination of Lannister crimson and a black as dark as the night. And like all great longswords this one had a name. _Oathkeeper_. He had named it himself as a constant reminder of his vows as a knight. As a former member of the glorious Kingsguard he had committed the worst possible crime.

Jaime had killed the king he had sworn to protect, he had murdered the last Targaryen king and had put an end to his tyrannic rule during the rebellion against the dragons. This is how he had received his infamous nickname, they called him the Kingslayer. Oh, how he hated and despised that name. For Jaime the murder of King Aerys Targaryen seemed like it had happened an eternity ago. In another time, another life, another place. His life had been easy in the past. He had his duty, his honour and served the king among living legends like Ser Arthur Dayne, the man everyone called the Sword of the Morning or Ser Barristan Selmy the Bold. Maybe he was too young to realize the peace had been delusive, only momentary. Aerys was truly a mad king, a monster in a human body. He didn't differentiate between his family or his servants. They all had to suffer when Aerys had one of his fits of rage and madness. In Jaime's eyes he had done the world a favour by killing this madman. But did he ever get a word of thanks or recognition? No, all this time they reviled him for his finest act, calling him a traitor and branding him as a man you couldn't trust. A man without a shred of honour. Many years have passed but people never seemed to forget his deed. Jaime used to say that he didn't care what others might think of him. But it wasn't the truth. It always bothered him greatly when he heard them whispering _Kingslayer _behind his back. It was like a curse, a dark cloud hovering over your head which you never got rid of, no matter how hard you tried

Maybe now the time had come to set things right. To do something heroic in his life and to clear his name. If he would kill this Dark Lord who threatened the whole wizarding world, he'd be a hero. A man of honour and respect. In the end it wasn't a battle against Voldemort. It was a battle against himself. A battle against the one they called the Kingslayer and against his past. Aerys would no longer haunt him in nightmares of fire and blood.

_Aerys... I hope the seven hells have granted you a front seat to watch this. I will break your curse once and for all. _

Jaime was gathering his magical energies, drawing them into his sword. He turned his attention to his opponent, the sword emitting a faint aura of white light, glowing in the darkness. The air crackled around his body as he raised his weapon, smiling expectantly. "Come now, my lord. What are you waiting for? Surely you don't plan to shake your scales at me."

For a moment the Dark Lord's red eyes beamed at him, his presence felt almost overwhelming but Jaime didn't want to pay too much attention to him. He had to concentrate, to focus his magic and calmly await Voldemort's onslaught.

And then it suddenly began. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed his sister as she ducked back instantly, taking cover behind him. Jets of brilliant green light shot forward from Voldemort's wand tip. The killing curses were deflected when Jaime summoned a golden shield to protect himself. The knight could feel the aura of his magic pulsing through the barrier, constantly strengthening the shield's power.

He laughed, savouring the heat of battle, answering only the surge of his passion, letting his magic flow through his veins. Battle fever. His blood was singing and it were moments like these where he never felt so alive. Time seemed to slow down, almost standing still. Every single movement was so slow as if in slow-motion. There was no fear, no doubt or worry. Only the enemy. There was only his enemy in front of him and he had only one thought. To defeat him. His skin was burning hot like fire as he held up his hand, a sphere of ivory fire blossoming in front of him, growing bigger and bigger. In a swift motion the white ball of raw energy was thrown against the Dark Lord. A loud explosion could be heard as the sphere crashed into Voldemort's silver shield. The sound crescendoed to a deafening roar when the dark wizard conjured Fiendfyre out of thin air, consuming and devouring the white energies of its attacker. The red flames transformed into the shape of a giant serpent. The snake's body grew larger and coiled upwards, staring down at Jaime before finally striking at him. The snake's head collided with his golden shield, the impact temporarily blinding his eyes. Dark smoke was all around him. The blond man coughed and blinked, desperately trying to detect something through the dense black clouds, his green eyes searching for the Dark Lord but he could barely see anything.

_I can't see him but he can't see me either. This is the moment I've been waiting for. I can catch him unaware and plunge my sword through his heart._

Jaime had realized that the Dark Lord held the upper hand while fighting from a distance. For now he had to rely on defence alone, a sword-attack was unthinkable. He had to get close to him, to get him in his sword distance. It was just one step and this one step was all he needed. He could move so fast and strike him with his blade in the blink of an eye. Voldemort wouldn't see it coming and wouldn't be able to dodge that attack.

_And what if he dodges it?_ No, Jaime didn't want to think about that possibility. The summoning of his magical shield had drained him of all his energy reserves. He wouldn't be able to keep this up. Well, at least not for long. It was a gamble to stake his life on that single attack. Cersei would call it a suicidal and rash move. If she knew what he was about to do she'd probably try to stop him. But to Jaime, it was all about luck. And so far his luck had never abandoned him. The best proof was his unscathed armor. There was no single scratch on it. His enemies always seemed to miss. This was thanks to his remarkable combat skills of course but you also needed Lady Luck on your side to be victorious.

_I can do it. Don't think, just do._ He closed his eyes, all negative thoughts leaving his mind. The fear of failure and death vanished along with his doubts and his fatigue. The only thing that remained was his battle fever, letting the bonds of control slip, leaving aside conscious thought and allowing himself to sink into a deeper state of mind. His eyes opened again, seeing his surroundings in a new light. He was not directly aware of the smoke or the debris of battle around him. His vision had become a tunnel and he only saw the shadow of the Dark Lord silently moving through the mist. The young man clasped his sword in his hands, ready to face Lord Voldemort one last time.

_Now!_ He jumped forward and drove at him, Oathkeeper alive in his hands as he took the final step forward, slashing at the dark wizard.

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

_What's happening? I need to see him. Where's Jaime?_ She thought nervously as she stumbled forward, her hands reaching out for something, anything to hold on to. Suddenly there was a chill wind tugging at her gown, the coldness creeping up her body, causing her to shiver. The smoke was gone now and it was this moment where she discovered her brother trying a desperate attack against Voldemort. For a second she thought, he would succeed. His crimson-black blade was almost touching the Dark Lord's chest. But Jaime missed and slashed at nothing. With a swishing sound the other man's body vanished into thin air. Her brother turned around and his eyes flashed at her in alarm as somebody had apparated behind her.

Cersei wanted to take a look but stopped in her movement as she heard a soft whisper behind her. _"Imperio!" _She felt the sensation that her mind had been wiped of all thoughts. It was as if someone had engulfed her in a warm blanket of bliss, her body instantly relaxed and felt so light, like floating in a calm sea. In this dream-like state she heard a strong voice echoing in her head, commanding her to torture her brother, to inflict the Cruciatus curse upon him. She fought against that command and tried to resist. Her inner voice screaming _'No! I won't hurt Jaime! I won't! I won't!' _But she soon realized her resistance was futile. The more she fought against that order, the more pain she felt. Her wrist was on fire. It was the Dark Lord's strange gift, his bracelet. There was a connection between Voldemort's magic and this object, it seemed to amplify the effect of the Imperio curse by adding pain to her body.

The blond woman winced, another whisper close to her ear, soft as silk. "Here, my dear. You will need _this_." Cersei watched in horror as a white hand took hers, spidery fingers gently placing her wand into her palm, closing her fingers around it.

"Now, Cersei. You shall punish this man. He _deserves_ it. I, Lord Voldemort _command_ you."

Cersei stared at her brother, her wand hand trembling as she used all her strength to gain control over her body. But to no avail. The bracelet sent shots of fire through her wrist and she couldn't hold out any longer. Jaime let his sword sink and gave her a weak smile. "It's all right, Cersei. If this has to be done I'd rather want it to be you to cast the Cruciatus. Go on, I've felt pain before. This will be nothing, I promise you."

She frowned. Was her brother trying to comfort her even as she was about to hurt him?

_Jaime... Please forgive me._

Her arm was moving on its own now as she finally succumbed to the voice speaking inside her head, no longer able to withstand the curse's power. It felt like a puppeteer player moving her body through attached strings against her own will. Voldemort placed a cold hand on her shoulder, pressing it tightly. "You know you have to _mean_ it, Cersei. Don't disappoint me."

Feeling the Dark Lord so close to her was almost too much. The Dark Mark on her skin was itching, standing in the presence of her new master. But being under the Imperius curse at least helped her not to mind his proximity. Her wand pointed at her brother who just stood there, his lips turning into a sad smile. Jaime would never fight against her. Voldemort probably knew this and used it against him.

Through gritted teeth, she cast the Unforgivable curse. "_Crucio!__" _

Jaime fell to the floor, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. His screams of agony echoed in her ears, the sound hurting her like physical pain. Through their twin-bond she somehow shared his pain, the curse affecting her in a similar way. Feelings of guilt and failure overcame her, like a heavy weight pressing down on her shoulders. It was all her fault, she was the one to blame that Jaime had to suffer like this. Why couldn't she be stronger? She hated herself, knowing that she could have prevented this torment. But she lacked the required strength, her willpower wasn't enough to break the curse.

After a seemingly endless minute of torture Cersei lifted the curse, hearing Voldemort's satisfied voice close to her ear. "Very good, Cersei. You did well. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Her brother scrambled to his feet, he clenched his jaw as he saw Voldemort wrapping an arm around her waist, caressing her cheek with his long white fingers. She shuddered uncomfortably at the touch, not wanting her brother to see her like this. This wasn't her. It wasn't the Cersei, Jaime knew. The old Cersei would've fought back with everything she got, never surrendering like this. This was not the fierce green-eyed lioness he so loved. Voldemort had seen to that.

"Take your hands off my sister, you filthy snake." she heard her twin yell in a furious tone, cringing when the man behind her stirred, spotting an angry gleam in his red eyes at the corner of her vision.

"Your sister is _my_ possession.", Voldemort reminded him. "She belongs to me now and I shall touch her whenever it pleases me. But _you_... don't think I have forgotten about _you_, young lion. You have entered this manor without my permission and you have threatened to take away what is rightfully mine. This defiant act shall not go unpunished. _Crucio_!"

Once again her brother had to endure the Cruciatus Curse. This time at the hands of the Dark Lord himself. Cersei couldn't stand to watch Jaime's suffering. It was too much to bear. The young woman sank to her knees, unable to hold back her tears anymore, tasting the salt teardrops on her dry lips.

Voldemort ended the curse, both watching her brother tumble and breaking down, now lying unconscious on the ground. Cersei wanted to hurry to Jaime's side, to hold him in her arms and whisper to him how sorry she was, telling him that she would do everything in her power to get him out of here. But she couldn't and the reason was _him_. She didn't want to imagine what Voldemort would do, how much more punishment he would inflict on her, or even worse, on Jaime if she would go now, leaving him without his permission. So she just sat there, her tearful eyes never leaving her brother's body, feeling hollow and broken inside.

He bent down, his hand slowly reached out to her, pulling up her chin, forcing her to face his blood-red eyes. One long finger, white as bone moved up her cheek, carefully wiping away her tears. Cersei didn't want him to comfort her right now. He was the cause of all this pain. The Dark Lord's mind had conceived this cruel sickness, willing her to harm her own brother. How much more horror would he create? How many people would have to suffer when he played his twisted games with her?

His gentle, almost affectionate touch was unnerving. Like a predator giving his prey false comfort before devouring it. This wasn't right. And to make it worse, she leaned in to his touch, seeking his closeness, needing someone, anyone to be with her. She hated him but the one she hated the most was herself. For being torn between conflictive feelings of denial and want. Only Lord Voldemort was able to make her feel that way. "Hush, my sweet one. You know he deserved it, don't you? I shall keep him alive for your sake. Do as I say and he shall not be harmed."

"Is this a promise?", she asked, hope filling her thin voice.

"It is not a promise, my dear. Only a warning. It all depends on you. If you do something that displeases me, he shall die. If you plan to rescue your brother and run away with him, he shall die. And you shall die along with him. Do you _understand _this, Cersei?" he stared at her, the colour of his eyes changing to a darker, more sinister hue.

Oh yes, she understood it all too well. It was a threat. If she would act against his wishes Voldemort would kill Jaime. And he wouldn't hesitate to kill her too. Now she was really stuck between a rock and a hard place. Cersei would never risk her brother's life. If he died she was as good as dead too. Jaime was her other half, she wasn't complete without him. Her twin didn't deserve to suffer because of her. If it was in her hands to ensure Jaime's safety, she would do anything.

"I understand this perfectly, my lord." she answered dryly and caught a glimpse of Lucius Malfoy standing at the balcony's entrance with a sad look of sympathy on his face. As if he wanted to say _'I've warned you but you didn't listen. And now we share the same fate.'_

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

They had left him in a dark, foul-smelling cellar. There were no windows here, no lights from the outside world. The thick metal door was barred. There were no means of escape. Days had gone by and nothing had happened. Jaime was alone in this cell, separated from the other prisoners. His only company had been Death Eaters who brought him bread and water, nothing more. When he asked about his sister, they wouldn't respond, ignoring him completely as if he didn't exist.

Today marked his fourth day of imprisonment. The blond man sat cross-legged on the floor, his back leaning against the cold grey stone wall. He heard faint creaky sounds of doors being pushed open. His head tilted to the side, listening if someone was approaching his cell. His hands instinctively covered his face as bright light flooded the room , the use of a wand lighting spell hurting his eyes.

When his vision became accustomed to the light, he could see a dark-haired witch in front of him. The tall woman wore a black coat, a cruel smile playing around her thin red lips. He was certain that this had to be Bellatrix Lestrange from the Black family. According to Varys she was a powerful witch and one of Voldemort's most loyal Death Eaters. Lestrange was a dark beauty but he didn't care about her good looks. There was only one woman he was interested in. And that was Cersei.

He smiled at her, his voice sounding hoarse in his ears as he waved at her to come closer. "Ah, a visitor. I'd invite you to take a seat but as you can see your friends have neglected to provide a chair."

She sneered at him. "I'm not here to have a friendly chat, you worm."

"No? And here I've hoped you'd come to enjoy my company. You know, having some pleasure of me. I assure you I can be of service." He patted the ground beside him. "Take off your clothes and we could do it right here, on the stone floor. I wouldn't mind and your husband doesn't need to know. I promise I won't tell him."

"Silence!" she screamed, flushing.

"Well, the offer still stands. I'm ready when you are." He taunted her, an arrogant smirk on his lips.

"_Crucio_!"

His body jerked back, twisting in excruciating pain. It was the feeling of a thousand burning knives piercing and cutting his skin. The pain was so intense he almost lost his mind, not even having the strength to scream.

The torture ended and he needed a minute to catch his breath. He gritted his teeth, still managing to give her a mock smile. "Was that all, girl? Surely you can do better than this."

That damn witch cast the Cruciatus curse again, the mind-numbing pain was back, setting every inch of his skin on fire and shrinking his world to a whirlwind of blazing agony. After several minutes of torment the curse was lifted, the spasms began to fade. His body and will were exhausted and it was his rage that kept him going. _I will have my vengeance and you will be the first to suffer. Oh, how I will enjoy her screams._

He chuckled dryly. "Please, could you do this again? I do so love that _violent_ streak of yours."

The witch stared at him in bewilderment. She wasn't used to a prisoner begging her to be tortured, practically asking for it. "What is wrong with you? Do you not fear death?", she asked him.

But Jaime shrugged, giving her a tired smile. "Valar Morghulis. Do you know that phrase? It's a common saying in Essos, it means '_all men must die_.' Sooner or later, death comes to all of us. Why fear it?"

She pointed her wand at him, giving him a wicked smile. "You're a strange man, Lannister. I make sure that _I_ shall be the one to _end_ your life."

"Why not kill me now?"

Bellatrix snarled. "The Dark Lord wants you alive. But he has given me precise instructions to _entertain_ you. Soon you will wish that our Lord changes his mind, begging him to let me kill you."

"You call this _entertainment_? I could think of better ways to _entertain_ me, wench."

She waved her wand at him and he was once more swallowed by all-consuming agony, discovering whole new levels of pain. He clenched his fists, screaming and screaming all over again. The torment went on for hours until he finally lost his consciousness, being swallowed by pitch-black darkness before hitting the ground.

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

Jaime woke up as someone lightly tipped his shoulder, making him wince in pain as the memories of his suffering came back to him.

"You've seen better days, ser." A soft voice remarked, observing Jaime's unwashed hair and dirty clothing.

Jaime looked up at Lord Varys, the man crouched down beside him, giving him a worried look. "Varys, thank the gods you're finally here. I was beginning to wonder you'd leave me here to rot in this dungeon. We have to find Cersei and get out of this damn manor."

The spymaster was disguised in the black robes of a Death Eater, smiling sadly. "I'm afraid I can't help you, my young friend. It would ruin our plans if we remove your sister now. The Dark Lord has taken a great liking to her. It would be such a pity to break her away from him. They are such a lovely couple, aren't they?"

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. He had somehow expected this answer and wasn't surprised at all. This was all part of Tywin's plan and Jaime had only been a minor distraction. His father wouldn't let him interfere again, that was clear.

"What about _me_? Can you get me out of this hole?", he asked him.

The bald man shrugged. "No, my lord. You have to stay here. Your father said that a Lannister doesn't act like a fool and spending your days in this prison shall teach you to learn from your failures."

"Great, just great. So why have you come here? Ever since the moment I've forced you to bring me here, everything had gone wrong. Does this amuse you? Are you here to gloat now?"

"You do me wrong, ser. I abhor torture and the sight of blood. Trust me, your suffering is the last thing I want."

Jaime cocked his head. "So, what do you _want_, Varys? Every man _wants_ something. What is it you truly _want_? Oh wait, I've forgotten, you aren't even a _man_."

Varys _tsk_ed. "Oh please, my lord. Now you're being rude. I live to serve your lord father to the best of my ability, isn't that obvious? And as a servant of your house I also serve you. I swear it by my lost manhood."

"My bloody father can go to the deepest of the seven hells for all I care." he murmured. "According to him family has the highest priority, isn't that right? Well, look at us now. Tywin doesn't give a damn about Cersei and me. All he cares about is his power and how to secure it." Jaime turned to gaze at him, "And now that you've mentioned to serve me as well...", both hands grabbed the other man by the collar of his robe, pulling him closer until he was only centimetres away, already smelling the rosewater in Varys' breath. "I want you to save her. This is an _order_, Varys. If you don't comply, I will make you realize that there are more body parts you can lose other than your precious manhood."

Varys gulped, nervously licking his lips."I understand your misgivings, my lord. But as I've told you before, I can't do anything now. It would ruin your father's plans. Lucky for us your rash act didn't jeopardize Cersei's mission. On the contrary, it had quite the opposite effect. I have the impression the Dark Lord grew fond of our dear Cersei. This is her chance, we can't let that opportunity slip through our fingers."

Jaime couldn't believe what he was hearing, feeling his anger rising. "You tell me she has to stay with this dark wizard? If you haven't noticed, Varys, this man is close to becoming a second Aerys. He'll kill us all. The only difference I see is that he doesn't share Aerys' mad obsession to set things on fire. I guess we should be grateful for that. Not that I think the Cruciatus curse is any better. Instead of burning your body, it burns you from the inside. Trust me, it's not an experience I want to relive again."

But Varys shrugged, he didn't seem to share his fears. "Mylord, you worry too much. Everything is going exactly the way your father had planned it. There's no reason to fear for your sweet sister, she is stronger than you think."

And with that he wrenched himself away from his grip, standing up and arranging his tangled robes."I have to leave you now, good ser. But do not worry, I shall report to you again. Until then try to be a bit nicer to the Lestrange woman. Provoking her doesn't solve a thing and it would grieve me to inform your dear father you've lost your sanity while being tortured."

Jaime's emerald eyes glared at him for a few moments, then turning his head away from him. He had enough of this. He was sick of his father, sick of that cursed eunuch and sick of everything. In the end all he could do was to rely on himself. He'd have to get Cersei away from here on his own. That venture seemed virtually impossible but he would do it. He was a lion after all. And a lion would never give up so easily.

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

The dark witch stormed through the hallways of the manor, racing to her chambers. Her facial expression showing her fury, her anger barely containable.

How dare he insult her like that? Oh, how she wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face, pushing him further to the limits. It had costed her all of her willpower to restrain herself from killing this man. Even as a prisoner he dared to mock her. And she hated it if someone didn't take her seriously, questioning her skills of torture. But what irritated her the most was his stubbornness. It had been her first time meeting the infamous Jaime Lannister. Although being kept in a small cell, he still managed to exude an aura of pride and elegance, looking like a magnificent green-eyed yellow beast. The smudgy look only intensified this impression. A true Lannister lion.

She had almost killed him, eager to cast the Avada Kedavra curse. But the Dark Lord had warned her not to lose her composure. If there was one thing she feared the most, it was losing her master's approval. Especially now where he had gained a new toy to play with, disregarding and ignoring her completely. But she would win back his favour. Bella was the Death Eater, he admired and respected the most. She'd never lose this position. As his most faithful servant Bellatrix was destined to be at her Lord's side. It was only a matter of time till she would replace Lucius as his right hand.

But all her plans concerning her ascension in his ranks had to wait. She had another problem to deal with and that was Jaime Lannister. The first thing she would do next morning was to go to her master and ask him for his permission to kill this worm. She couldn't stand his arrogance any longer. Bella wanted him to pay dearly. Oh yes, she did.

The dark-haired woman entered her chamber. It was already night time. The room was barely lit, some candles spending a small amount of light here and there. Her husband sat at the dining table, hands folded in his lap.

"Where have you been, my love? It's late and the food is getting cold." Rodolphus said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"I had important business to attend to. It couldn't wait." She explained, taking a seat next to him and staring at her dish. He had prepared their meals with so much care but after the recent events Bella wasn't in the mood to eat anything, having no hunger at all. Instead she reached for her wine glass, gulping the red liquid down.

"You don't look well, Bella. Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened, I'm fine." she snarled, giving him a cold glare, indicating that he should stop asking her questions.

Rodolphus sighed. "I've intended to present you a wonderful dinner tonight for this special day. A pity, really."

The woman frowned. "Special day? I don't know what you're talking about, it's not our wedding anniversary."

He nodded. "No, it isn't." His hand reached into the inside of his black coat, a dagger now visible in his hands.

Before Bellatrix could ask him why he possessed a muggle weapon, he thrust the blade deep into her chest. The impact of the abrupt attack almost send her falling off her chair. His hand quickly closed around her mouth to muffle her screams. She felt the blood pouring out of her wound, a sharp pain in her stomach.

_What? Morgana, what is happening to me?_

Confusion and shock distorted her beautiful features. She was shaking violently, a sudden coldness spreading out through her whole body.

The colour had left her cheeks, her white skin looking pale in the dim candlelight. She raised her brows, not quite believing what had happened right now, the realization slowly sinking in that she was about to die in a matter of minutes. Gathering all her strength left in her body, Bella tried to grab her wand. If she was going to die, she would take him down with her. But Rodolphus seized her wand immediately, throwing it away in a casual manner, treating it like an ordinary piece of wood.

Her murderer slowly removed his hand from her mouth, apparently sure that his victim had no energy left to scream for help.

"Why?" she wanted to know, her voice merely a faint whisper.

Rodolphus leaned forward, giving her a sad look, the air around him being sweet with the scents of lilacs.

_This isn't my Rodolphus. He never uses perfume._ She thought.

"Please forgive me, my lady. It is nothing against you personally. I bear you or House Black no ill will. But it had to be done. I am very sorry."

She shivered, her body was cold as ice. "_Who are you_?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter who I am. I'm just a man trying to end a war. Your untimely death will make sure that the serpent and the lion will be at each other's throats, suspecting and mistrusting one another. Throw in the Ministry of Magic and the Phoenix and you have the perfect chaos at your hands."

The imposter's hands made a wide gesture, his voice content."And while they all fight each another, diminishing their numbers and becoming weak, the people will seek out a saviour. A saviour to bring back peace to their world. And who could be a better saviour than the long lost dragon itself?"

"Dragon?", she managed to mumur.

"The last of the Targaryen, my dear. Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. She will come with her three great dragons, cleansing this land with her fire and bringing order to this chaos. It's a pity, really. You won't be able to see it happening."

Bellatrix had no feeling in her limbs, everything was becoming numb. Every single breath was forced, the pain unbearable.

Her killer sighed. "Poor thing, I shall end your suffering now."

Her black eyes watched him in horror as the man took out his wand, the wand tip pointing at her.

Was this how it was going to end? That could not be. She didn't deserve to die like that. Not like this. She, Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the most powerful pure-blood witches the wizarding world had ever seen, killed in her chambers with a filthy muggle weapon. Not having the honour to die on the battlefield like a proud Death Eater, sacrificing her life for her master.

Bellatrix Lestrange dedicated her last thought to him, closing her eyes and seeing the mental image of her beautiful Dark Lord. It was that one glorious day he had taken notice of her, asking her to join his ranks. To teach her magic beyond comprehension.

Her life didn't flash before her eyes, only her memories of him. The only man she ever loved.

_Voldemort... _

_Master..._

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for all the reviews, I appreciate it a lot ;)<p>

I hope the ending of this chapter came as a surprise. What I love most about ASoIaF is that the story is unpredictable, there are always plot-twists you wouldn't expect and no one is safe. I'm trying the same in this story and hope you like it. 100 points go to the one who knows who murdered Bellatrix Lestrange ;)


	6. You win or you die

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 5: You win or you die~

The moon had risen quite high, and the cold white light shone through the windows of the Malfoy library. The pale light illuminated a shadowy figure dressed in dark robes. Lord Voldemort resembled a wraith, a creature of a nightmare, the one that could scare the poor little children in their beds. He turned Jaime Lannister's sword over in his hands, sensing the ancient magic within the blade and admiring the workmanship. It was well-crafted, black and red was blended into the folds of the blade. The two colours overlapped one another without touching each other. Its colours looked even more vibrant when he held the longsword close to a light source. The man placed his new acquirement carefully on his desk, knowing that it would be a fine addition to his trophy collection.

The dark wizard left his desk and took a seat in his grand armchair, leaning back and enjoying the silence. Malfoy library was one of the few rooms in this manor he deemed comfortable. The sight of a chamber lined with bookshelves made him feel at ease. Here he was able to relax and to calm his mind.

Voldemort hissed a few words in Parseltongue and held out his arm, beckoning his familiar to come to him. His green snake left her warm position at the fireplace and moved towards him, slithering slowly across the wine red carpet. Loud hissing sounds could be heard as Nagini's huge body climbed up the armchair, curling around his shoulders and finally resting its head in his lap. Voldemort began to caress the snake's head with his white long fingers, his gleaming red eyes wandering over the room. A smile appeared on his serpentine features as he spotted the shape of a sleeping woman, sitting in another armchair just a few metres away from him. She wore a bed gown of deep green silk and her long blond hair shone like molten gold in the flickering light. Cersei Lannister. His newest possession. He could feel how the dark mark on her forearm reacted to his presence. Its magic sang to him, reminding him that a part of his magic resided in her now, binding her to him.

Voldemort hadn't planned to let her stay here, so close to him in his private sanctuary. But she had left him no choice. He wasn't able to enter and mould her dreams again and it soon became clear why. Cersei had somehow managed to receive Dreamless Sleep Potions from an unknown source and had used them as defence against her nightmares. The house-elf had found the bottles hidden under her bed and had reported to him right away. Instead of taking the potions away from her he had another, far better idea. He had instructed his servant, Serverus Snape to alter her potions by adding a few new ingredients. One of them was spider-venom. The new side-effects would help him to have more control over her. They would leave her in a vulnerable state and paralyse her body but she would still retain the power of speech. Voldemort had ordered one of his Death Eaters to carry her unconscious form to his room. He wanted to be there when she opened her eyes, he was looking forward to that moment.

Nagini gazed up at him, her golden snake eyes studying him curiously. _"What is it, Master? Why do __you keep this woman here? May I devour her?"_

"_Leave her be. This doesn't have to concern you, my love." _he replied as his fingers brushed over Nagini's nostrils, aware that she liked it when her master touched that sensitive spot.

But his familiar didn't seem content with his answer and went on._ "Master, please. You don't need this female. It should only be you and me. This is how it is meant to be." _Nagini hissed in a jealous tone, the sheer thought of her master being around another female disturbing her greatly.

Voldemort chuckled in a low tone. "_Ah, Nagini. Don't fret. No woman, no matter how beautiful she may be, can ever compare to you. You know that. As for her_..." He tilted his head, his crimson eyes staring into the flames and his cold voice sounding thoughtful. "_I have plans for her and that is all you need to know_."

_My dear, sweet Nagini is jealous._ The thought amused him. Yes, Cersei was indeed beautiful, even attractive. But her beauty didn't interest him, it was irrelevant. There were other qualities that attracted his attention. She was cunning, arrogant, clever and manipulative. In some ways she reminded him of his younger self. She and Tom Riddle were very much alike. She hungered for power, she seduced the men around her with her charm and she was an accomplished liar. Only her magical talents were satisfactory at best but he saw room for improvement. Her knowledge of the Dark Arts was minimal but he would teach her, show her its greatness and power. Of course Cersei would never reach his level but that was also impossible. The only living wizard who could compare to him was Albus Dumbledore. And even Dumbledore was inferior to him. He had too many flaws, too many weaknesses, believing the notion that love was the greatest power. What an old fool! The day drew nearer, the day of Dumbledore's defeat. Voldemort would prove once and for all that he was truly the greatest wizard. In Cersei's case it didn't matter to him that she still needed training. He was certain that this woman could be a second Bellatrix in terms of magical power. Yes, she would be quite formidable, he could foresee it.

But for now his plans had to wait. Cersei Lannister still fought against him. She had not accepted him as her master yet. During the initiation ceremony she knelt before him because she still believed she could outsmart him, playing her part as his submissive servant, only waiting for the perfect moment to strike back.

_You think I can't read your thoughts, Cersei? You are wrong. I don't need Legilimency to tell if you lie. You are an open book to me._ He knew that she acted according to her father's plans.

This woman who came to him that day with the intention to sway the Dark Lord. Oh, how naïve she had been to foolishly believe that she was the one in control. He would show her it was indeed the other way around. _He_ was the one who controlled _her_. It would please him to subdue this proud lioness. He would demonstrate who the true master of manipulation was.

Voldemort couldn't deny that the recent events have affected him more than he cared to admit. The thought of losing Cersei to her brother had awakened long forgotten feelings in him. Jealousy, envy...

Feelings he thought he couldn't feel or was unable to feel after such a long time of living in isolation in the Albanian forests.

As a soul without a body he had lived as a parasite. He had inhabited the bodies of other animals, preferably snakes but unfortunately they couldn't contain his soul for long. They were unsuitable vessels to begin with. Yet, he didn't dare to take possession of a human body. At that time the Ministry was still looking for him, the Aurors were searching everywhere and it had been too much of a risk to even try. In these long years of isolation he began to feel like an animal himself, his only intent was to survive, to look for food and to rest. Human thoughts and feelings were lost to him, long forgotten. When he had finally regained his human form, all his memories being a human came crashing over him like a wave. Although he was human again he was closer to Nagini than any of his Death Eaters. Only she was able to understand him, to comprehend his new reptilian nature.

Snakes were solitary creatures, they preferred to live by themselves. Yet, there were moments he had this longing for human contact. It was a primal need and no human could live without it. His envy grew stronger when he saw these two twins together. The young lion shared a special with his Cersei, a bond he didn't have. A twin-bond that brought them closer to one another. Too close for his taste.

The thought of losing Cersei to Jaime had made him furious. It would prove to be difficult to sever this bond, perhaps impossible. He had already separated them but his prized possession grew more and more restless each and every day, asking him about her brother, pleading with him to meet the prisoner. The Dark Lord took a great delight when he denied her wishes. How he enjoyed it when he saw her giving him a defeated look. As long as he held this man captive, his Cersei was a tame lioness. But he also felt the strong urge to kill Jaime Lannister for even attempting to steal her away. No one was allowed to steal a part of Lord Voldemort's property. She was his, and his alone. He would never share what belonged to him. With no one.

Voldemort was obsessed with everything he owned. It had started as he was just a small child in the orphanage. As young Tom Riddle he simply stole meaningless objects from the other children as souvenirs. He had collected and treasured them, sealing them away in his little cardboard box so that he was the only one who had access to them. These objects didn't have any particular value. They were just trophies which brought back precious memories of his first encounters with his magical abilities.

His obsession of ownership never left him. He took it to another level as he started to collect powerful magical artefacts as adequate vessels to harbour fragments of his soul. His Horcruxes. They were his path to immortality. His red eyes looked down at Nagini, one of his most beloved Horcruxes and the only Horcrux who was a living animal. In all of his studies he had never heard of a wizard or a witch who had tried to make a living Horcrux. Lord Voldemort was the first one to consider this possibility and to achieve this feat. His Nagini was unique, a testament of his unmatched power. But he was also aware of the fact that his Horcruxes weren't entirely safe. They could be destroyed. It was Lucius who had informed him about the fate of his Horcrux-diary. Oh, the irony to think it was Harry Potter, the so-called Chosen One who was responsible for the diary's destruction. Voldemort would never forgive his servant for this failure and the penalty would be severe. His son Draco Malfoy would be the one to pay for his father's imprudent actions. He would assign Lucius' son to kill the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort knew that Draco wouldn't be able to accomplish this task, that he was doomed to fail. It didn't matter, either way his parents would lose their only son. All he wanted was to see the despaired faces of Lucius and his wife Narcissa. He would show them what it truly meant to displease the Dark Lord.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a change in Cersei's calm and steady breathing pattern. Her eyes fluttered open, the realization sinking in slowly that she wasn't in her bedchamber.

_Finally..._

Voldemort stood up and let Nagini's large body sink to the red carpet. He turned and glided towards her, his black robe surrounding him like a shroud of mist. He had caught her unaware, all her thoughts lay bare before him. Cersei would need a certain amount of time to use her Occlumency to establish a magical defense against the invasion of her mind. This was the moment he had been waiting for. In all this time he hadn't been able to read her mind, only occasionally when she wasn't able to control her emotions. He stepped closer, hearing every single thought in his head.

_Where am I? I've slept and then... Oh gods, and why is he here? Has something happened? If Jaime is dead I will... _

His lean fingers trailed down the line of her jaw as his red eyes gazed into her deep green ones. "So many questions, my dear. You are in my private chambers. Surely you want to know why I brought you here and the answer is simple: There are things you've kept hidden from me. Like the Dreamless Sleep potions which you have used without my permission. And I feel there is more you didn't tell me but...", his thin lips curled into a smile, "You and me shall have all the time to get to know each other, do we not?"

He felt her body tense against his touch but she couldn't move. "_What have you done to me?_" she grunted through frozen lips.

"Ah, not much. You won't be able to move your body but I assure you, this effect is only temporary." he explained and moved his spider-like hands up, his long fingers pressing lightly against her temples while he stared at her with sudden intensity in his scarlet eyes. "Now you will show me _everything_, Cersei. _Everything_ about you. _Legilmens_!"

Voldemort used his magic to pry open her mind, entering her thoughts and feelings. Her mind hadn't been prepared for this violent intrusion as he encountered no resistance during his search. Images flashed before his eyes. Her childhood at Casterly Rock, her many lessons in magic with a strict father, her foolish love she had felt for a young prince. And later an unwanted and unhappy marriage where Cersei felt nothing but contempt for her husband. Voldemort wasn't surprised that she had killed this man and it was also no secret that she and her brother were indeed lovers. He had suspected it but it still angered him that these two were even closer than siblings. Nevertheless, this information would help him to have further leverage over her. As he forced his way to her recent memories he couldn't find a way to pull through. The path was blocked. When he tried to increase the pressure the barrier pushed him back, treating him like an unwelcome intruder. It had to be a special magical protection. Something that was permanent and which he couldn't break open with his will alone. He pulled out of her mind, hearing her gasp in pain as he suddenly left her.

The Dark Lord peered at her closely and brushed a blond strand of hair out of her face. Beads of sweat were pouring down her forehead as she blinked at him. The woman was exhausted from his onslaught but she was still determined not to show her weakness.

_There she is again... my fiery lioness._ He thought, an amused expression on his face as he towered over her small form. "Don't try to shield your mind from me, Cersei. You know it is only a foolish attempt. Now, tell me. Who gave you the Dreamless Potions and how did your brother manage to break through the manor's barrier?"

"The potions are mine. No one gave them to me. And I have no idea how Jaime got inside the manor. Your security seems to be lax here." She replied. Her face did not flicker, but that might merely have been due to her paralysis.

Voldemort could feel that she didn't tell the truth. "_Liar_!", he hissed and reached out with his pale hand to pull up her chin. "_The truth, Cersei! Now!_" he demanded, his ruby eyes glittering threateningly in the darkness.

"It was the truth. And even if I did lie, I won't tell you anything." She said in a challenging tone.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Never forget that you are _mine_ now. You shall hide _nothing_ from me."

Her emerald eyes were burning like green fire, flashing at him in defiance. "You think that I am _your_ possession. But what if I don't want to be owned by you? What if I try to resist? What can you do to me that you haven't done to me before? Please _enlighten_ me, my lord."

Voldemort stared at her with clinical fascination. Why was she still trying to resist? He knew the Dark Mark wouldn't be enough to force her to submit to him. Maybe there was more to her than he had expected. But it didn't irk him. On the contrary, he was intrigued.

"You have no idea what I am capable of, Cersei. There are so many ways to break you, it will be a pleasure to test all those possibilities if you still want to defy me." And to place emphasis on his words he now held his yew wand in his hand and pressed its tip against her throat. "_Crucio_!"

The curse shook her whole body uncontrollably. Her cries of agony were like sweet music to his ears. She gasped, tears welling in her eyes. He saw her burning with shame to be crying in front of him, showing him her weakness she so desperately wanted to hide.

With a flick of his wand he lifted the curse and saw her body shuddering. The effects of Snape's potion were apparently wearing off. Her voice was almost a croak, barely audible and the Dark Lord listened to her words with growing satisfaction. "Forgive me my impertinence, my lord." She muttered. "I won't do it again."

He stroked her cheek almost affectionately. "Much better, my sweet lioness. Don't forget your place again. The next time you defy me I shall choose a far greater punishment than a simple torture curse."

She nodded, her shoulders sinking in defeat. "I understand."

The Dark Lord did not immediately respond. Eventually he gave her an approving nod, seemingly pleased. "Now, the _truth_, Cersei. My patience is wearing thin."

"Lord Tywin's servant gave me the potions. As for my brother..." She averted his eyes and continued. "I don't know. I swear it by the seven gods."

"And the name of this servant is?", he asked impatiently.

She carefully cleared her throat and answered hesitantly. "Varys. His name is Varys."

Voldemort knew that this time she had told him the truth. And Bella would take care of the rest. It would only be a matter of time until the torture would break Jaime Lannister. If there was a security breach here, maybe one of his Death Eaters acting as a Lannister spy, he would find it.

But he wasn't finished with her. His livid eyes looked at her closely. "And now about your brother. You were _lovers_." It was not a question and more like a statement.

She didn't avoid his gaze and looked him straight in the eye. "We shared the same womb together and came to this world together. We are twins and belong to one another. Why shouldn't we share a deeper connection? The Targaryens have wed brothers to sisters to keep their bloodlines pure. And even today pure-blood wizards do the very same. I won't deny what you have seen in my mind."

Voldemort could see that while it shamed her to admit it, it felt good to her. As if she felt oddly liberated deep down, acknowledging the truth openly. And she was right. Even his own family, the Gaunts had married their own cousins to protect their pure-blood line.

But this was of no importance to him. There were other things far more interesting to be discussed. "Your father doesn't know about your _intimate_ relationship? Isn't that right, my dear?"

She shrugged. "He wouldn't understand this. If you tell him of...", she stopped abruptly, already fearing the possible consequences.

"He doesn't need to know, Cersei. But in return you shall promise me to forget your brother. You are no longer his."

"If I promise you this, will you give him back his freedom?"

She was still trying to save her brother. But he wouldn't fulfil her wish. "I may be a merciful lord but your brother shall remain in his cell and I shall not change my mind."

"Why?" She asked him, a bitter tone in her voice as he had crushed her hopes.

"Because he tried to take away what is _mine. _And I shall not _forget_ this." The serpentine man said, emphasizing each word that she would finally understand his reasoning. He paused and studied his possession, as if he was waiting for a reaction. Oddly, Cersei didn't show very little reaction at all. Had she finally accepted her fate? He couldn't say, her face was an unreadable mask.

She leaned her head back against the soft armchair and stared at him, probably contemplating what to say next. Then, after a minute of silence she slowly nodded. "I shall not question my lord's judgement."

"Good, I see you finally understand." Voldemort said in a delighted tone and moved closer to her, placing his ivory hands on her shoulders. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her silk gown. Her body trembled and she instinctively tried to pull away from his touch. But Lord Voldemort's smile grew wider as he bent over her, smelling the jasmine scents of her perfume and hearing her breath quickening.

"Ssssh, don't try to fight it. You _want_ this and you _know_ it. Do you not, Cersei?" he asked in a low whisper as he ran his thin fingers along her cheeks.

"N-No. N-Never." Her face twitched slightly. She still tried to resist him but her resistance would soon crumble. She longed for his touch although she didn't want to admit it to herself.

_Yesss, struggle and struggle again, my lioness. It will make your surrender all the sweeter._

Voldemort chuckled, one of his fingers moving along her neck now, feeling her shiver with every single stroke. Suddenly he stopped in his movements as a chill feeling overcame him that made his skin crawl. Something had happened. One of his Death Eaters was... what? In danger? Injured? Dead? It wasn't quite clear. For a moment the world swayed around him, he felt himself almost stumble but moved his hands to the armrests to support himself.

His fire-red eyes stared far off into the distance, trying to detect the source of this disturbance. And then he knew. "_Bella_.", he breathed.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

Somehow Cersei was glad that the Dark Lord's attention had shifted to someone else. If she didn't have at least one tiny bit of control over her situation, she felt vulnerable and she hated that feeling. Voldemort played with her, that was clear. What a wonderful idea to paralyse her with her own potion. Turning her weapons against her. She still shuddered at the thought of him being so close to her. His cold fingers touching her skin, the movements teasingly slow as if to prolong this sweet torment. His sibilant voice so smooth like silk, seductive whispers in her ear, almost causing her to surrender to him. And the crimson fire in his eyes, burning so brightly in the darkness, gazing down at her with such intensity she couldn't help but feel mesmerized, unable to look away. She was trapped. Trapped like a mouse in front of a snake, helpless, paralysed and worst of all longing to be devoured.

Even if her mind tried to resist, her body had betrayed her, reacting to every single touch, shivering in anticipation. She was caught in a dance of wills. The snake sought to tempt her while the lioness tried her best to evade his advances. This was not how she had planned it. She wanted to have the upper hand, she wanted to be one to seduce him. And now? It was he who was in control. He had been in control from the very beginning and she had been too blind to see it.

But this was not the time to look back. Her focus had to be in the here and now. Someone had murdered Bellatrix Lestrange and now they had all gathered in this dining-room. Lucius held his wife Narcissa in his arms and tried to comfort her but she continued to sob, hiding her crying face in her husband's shoulder. Lord Voldemort stood at the front of a table where someone had arranged dishes for an evening dinner. The meal had been left untouched and the food was already cold, the wine glasses were empty. His scarlet eyes were closed as if he was in deep concentration, his yew wand twirling in his fingers. A Death Eater everyone called Wormtail had brought her brother Jaime here. Wormtail was a short man with a rat's face and a silver hand, probably a prosthetic. The smell of old cheese and sweat was around this man and Cersei felt disgusted just by looking at him. She thanked the gods when she saw Wormtail walking to the back of the room.

Cersei gave Jaime a nod, glad to see him again. There were no signs of physical torture, no cuts or other injuries. Jaime only looked tired and weak. His dark red leather coat was dirty and his blond hair was tousled, as if from sleep. At least the Dark Lord had kept his word. Her brother was still alive.

"Jaime?", she whispered and he gave her his usual smirk as if nothing had happened. "I'm fine, don't worry, sister. Compared to our cells in Casterly Rock, this is heaven on earth.", he assured her and his light green eyes turned to Serverus Snape, looking at him attentively, trying to catch every single detail. The Potion Master had been assigned to inspect Bellatrix' body and to analyse how she had been murdered.

"What is taking you so long, oily hair? Do you need spectacles? Someone has stabbed her with a dagger. Even a blind man could deduce something that obvious." Jaime sneered.

"Every tiny detail must be observed, Lannister." The dark-haired man said calmly and pointed at the chest wound. "She was stabbed with a muggle weapon, true. But the murderer has cast the killing curse to end her life. It is safe to say that the killer is a wizard or a witch although an ordinary muggle weapon was used in the first place."

Snape gestured at the room and continued. "There are also no signs of a struggle which indicates that it had to be someone Bellatrix Lestrange knew or someone who was close to her."

"So she was killed by someone she trusted? One of your Death Eaters? Or her husband maybe? _Poor girl_. I feel really sorry for her." Jaime said and Cersei could hear in his voice that he wasn't sorry at all. Cersei didn't feel anything either. That witch meant nothing to her.

"Any signs of Rodolphus, Serverus? Have they found him?" Voldemort asked in a cold voice.

Snape nodded. "Yes, my lord. I've received a report from Dolohov. He found his unconscious body outside in the gardens. It seems someone had stupefied Rodolphus and had dragged him under the bushes to hide his body. I'm fairly certain that our murderer went to such lengths to take an extract of his hair to use it for a Polyjuice Potion. The culprit transformed into the body of Rodolphus Lestrange and thus he or she had apparently no difficulty to kill Bellatrix in that form."

The man now took a white cloth from his inner robe pocket and reached for the dagger. His black eyes inspected the weapon carefully and after a few minutes he finally glanced up to his master. "My lord, please have a look at _this_."

Something wasn't right. All of a sudden Snape and Voldemort seemed very tense and Cersei didn't like it one bit.

Lucius Malfoy had noticed it as well and gave them a questioning look. "What is it, Snape?"

Snape raised an eyebrow and held up the dagger, showing them the hilt. It had a black leather grip and the pommel was a golden lion head. A Lannister lion. Their sigil.

Cersei and Jaime immediately exchanged glances and her brother whispered in her ear. "Who had done this?"

She shrugged and replied in a low tone, that only he was able to hear her. "It could be anyone. Our enemies are everywhere."

But there was no time to analyse this matter carefully as Voldemort began to pace around the twins, circling them. "What is the meaning of _this_?" He wanted to know, his red eyes turning to thin slits as he regarded them suspiciously.

She grimaced. "It is pretty obvious, is it not? Someone murders one of your most loyal Death Eaters and tries to shift the blame on our family. This looks like a setup to me, my lord. It is a plot to create a rift between us and only our enemies would benefit from it. We have nothing to do with this."

"She's right. Everyone knows the rumours about us Lannisters. We are treacherous, mendacious, evil, power hungry and everyone considers us not trustworthy. It's only logical to suspect us. _We_ are the perfect scapegoats." Jaime finished with a dry smile.

"And the _evidence_?" Snape asked, emphasizing the last word.

Her brother began to laugh, his finger pointing at the dagger as if this all was a bad joke. "_Evidence_? You mean _that dagger _there? Do you really think a Lannister would be that _stupid_? What sort of imbecile uses his own blade for an assassination?"

Voldemort flicked his wand and hissed in an annoyed tone. "_Crucio_!"

Jaime collapsed to the marble floor, screaming loudly under the effects of the torture curse. "_Not... our... dagger_!" Jaime groaned and Voldemort lifted the curse, suddenly turning his attention to her.

Cersei felt her stomach tighten as she faced him. In the dim light his glowing red eyes were even more intimidating. "My brother says the truth, my lord. This dagger may look like one of our daggers. But even if my father would send an assassin, he wouldn't be that careless and make such a foolish mistake. If Lord Tywin wants to get rid of someone, he has other, far better and more sophisticated methods. If he would want someone dead he'd probably hire professional assassins like the Faceless Men to let it look like an accident. No one would even suspect that it was murder at all. No, this amateurish act doesn't bear Lord Tywin's signature. Another important point is this: There is nothing to gain for us if we killed Bellatrix Lestrange. On the contrary, you are our allies and _your_ loss is _our_ loss."

She felt him inside her mind again, reading her thoughts and trying to find the truth. Cersei allowed him to search her feelings. In her mind she reassured him that she knew nothing of this murder, that they had no part in this plot.

His Legilimency didn't seem to end but after a while he left her mind. His voice was thoughtful as he looked back at the Lestrange woman's corpse. "Indeed, I sense no betrayal and your arguments sound reasonable to me. But still...", a slight frown creased Voldemort's forehead, "We have to find the one who is responsible for this."

"Of course, and we will." Cersei assured him, inclining her head. She turned to Lucius and Narcissa and sighed, giving both of them her saddest smile. "Lucius, Narcissa, my deepest sympathies. I am truly sorry for your loss. Everyone knew that Bellatrix Lestrange was an extraordinary witch. Such tragedy to die at such a young age. Whoever did this shall pay for this malicious act. I swear it by the seven gods."

_Yes, thank the seven gods this tedious woman is gone now. I'd bless her murderer with a kiss if he were here. _She fought the urge to smile and managed to make a face as if she was about to cry.

Lucius thanked her quietly and Narcissa nodded, her face red with tears.

The Dark Lord shifted his gaze to Lucius Malfoy. "It displeases me greatly that Bella was murdered in your home, Lucius. This should not have happened. Not _here_." The blond man winced at his master's words but Voldemort continued, his voice sounding even colder now. "I have also noticed that your family seems so unhappy lately. Are you not pleased that Lord Voldemort honours you with his presence?"

"N-No, my-my lord. I assure you we are honoured to be your host and to have you here." Lucius stammered, the colour of his face already turning white.

"Don't lie to me, Lucius!" He hissed and Lucius Malfoy instinctively took a step backwards while he held Narcissa's hand in a tight grip. His wife looked equally afraid but she tried to stay calm, only shivering slightly.

Voldemort approached them and sneered. "I've come to the conclusion that your manor is not an acceptable place to use as our current base, Lucius. Therefore...", he abruptly turned around and a grin curled his mouth as he announced, "I shall choose a _new_ location."

Lucius gulped. "My-my lord, I don't think this is necessary. I assure you..." But he broke off as Voldemort's angry eyes glared at him, knowing that it was better to keep quiet now.

Voldemort moved in Cersei's direction and she thought she saw a hint of a smile on his serpentine features. "Cersei, I am not entirely convinced that your family is not involved in this assassination plot. I think it is time to have a word with Lord Tywin himself. And your father shall be delighted to hear my decision. Our new headquarters shall be at _Casterly Rock_."

Cersei suppressed a grimace and she could see Jaime behind the Dark Lord, throwing her a startled look.

_He dares to step into the lion's lair? What is he planning? Does he have a death wish? Well, it doesn't matter. My father shall tear him to shreds. And even if not, Casterly Rock is lion's territory. A snake won't be able to survive there for long._

She was sure that Voldemort played right into her father's hands. But she still needed to sound doubtful, so she frowned and asked him slowly. "Is this wise, my lord?"

"Do you have objections, my dear?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Of course not. But you may have noticed the situation is complicated at the moment. I am your Death Eater and my brother is your prisoner. Lord Tywin may consider your newest decision an act of provocation." She explained cautiously.

"Ah, do not worry. I am sure your father shall comply with my decision."

_Comply with your decision? Tywin will be furious but he'll probably play along and act as your loyal ally. You will feel safe and protected. And soon you will let your guard down and then the lion shall devour you. _

"Yes, my lord. I am sure he shall." She nodded, suppressing a smile while Jaime still looked uncomfortable as if he feared the worst might happen now.

_Don't worry, brother. You can't see it. You're a warrior, not a schemer. No wonder you feel so lost in father's council. Tywin, Varys, Baelish and even Tyrion... they all know how to play the game. Let us see how well the Dark Lord fares in our court. _

_Because if you choose to play this game you win or you die. There is no middle ground._

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Thanks to all of you who fav'ed this story and a special thanks goes to Sonia605 for taking the time to review, it's very much appreciated ;) Yeah, it was Varys and I'm glad you didn't see it coming :) <em>

_In the next chapter we will see Harry and Tyrion again and lots of other new characters like the Tyrells and Melisandre. And of course, Voldemort finally meets Tywin and Joffrey, uh-oh :D  
><em>


	7. Between dreams and reality

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

_Author's Note: I had to split this chapter because it was too long again. I'll try to add the next chapter soon ;)_

The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 6: Between dreams and reality~

He had this dream again. It always came to him when he felt lonely and missed his family. In his dream he was standing in front of a great mirror, a mirror as high as the ceiling, framed in gold. They called it the Mirror of Erised. The mirror's reflection would always show you what you desired most, your most desperate wish. This was one of his most cherished memories. The memory of this one special evening where he saw his father and his mother for the first time, both smiling back at him. He wished that he could stay here eternally, sitting on the floor and being with his parents. If this dream could somehow last forever or if he could attain a power to make his dreams reality. But it was impossible, no such power existed in this world and he knew it. But still, he was here, in his dream. There was no war, no Voldemort, no pain, no worries, nothing. In this dream he was together with his parents and that was all that mattered.

His mother's image gave him an encouraging nod, her emerald eyes shining with warmth.

"Hi Mum." Harry whispered.

"You have her eyes." A soft female voice remarked behind him. Harry turned around, startled that someone else was here. In this dream he was usually alone.

The room was designed like the same room where he had first discovered the Mirror of Erised. It was an isolated classroom where the shelves and stairs were piled against the walls. Dust covered the floor, indicating that this room hadn't been used for a very long time. It was night outside. His dream room was dark too except this one spot where the mirror leaned against the wall. But now another source of light made this classroom look brighter. A beautiful woman had entered his dreamscape. She was robed in scarlet satin as bright as fire. Around her pale throat was a golden necklace, ornamented with a great ruby that glistened if it were burning on her white skin. Her long hair was a dark burnished copper and her red eyes studied him intently. Her eyes had not the menacing red colour like Voldemort's eyes. It was a warm, soothing red that gave no hint of malice. Nevertheless, there was something quite unsettling about red eyes.

"You...", he cleared his throat as he regarded the woman warily. "You must be Melisandre."

"And you are _Harry Potter_." Her strange, foreign voice sang his name like a song. It sounded melodious to his ears and he had never heard anyone say his name in such a tone before.

"I'm dreaming." Harry muttered, his green eyes drawn to her like he was almost in a state of trance. "Are you _real_?" He could have scolded himself right here and now because he had sounded like a little boy. As if he was somehow afraid that she was only a part of his dream that might burst like a bubble. He didn't know how the red priestess looked like and only had Tyrion's description of her appearance, nothing more. And yet here she was. So real that it was difficult to distinguish dream from reality.

"You can see me, young one. And you can talk to me. A dream is a mirror image of our subconscious mind. You wanted to meet me and here I am, reaching you through your dream."

The young wizard needed a moment to process her words. True, there were times when he felt the need to talk to this mysterious sorceress. Especially after he had met Tyrion Lannister. There were so many questions in his mind and he hoped she would be able to answer them. If she possessed knowledge how to defeat the Dark Lord, he had to know. Time was running out and they had to find a way to end it all quickly. Or there would be war and more bloodshed. More people would have to suffer, or worse would have to die.

"I had hoped to meet you, it's true." Harry began and paused as she moved in his direction. He could smell her now. It was the scent of fire and smoke. And blood. _Melisandre truly is the personification of fire._ He thought.

She gazed at him, her eyes burned like pale red candle flames. "I _know_, Harry. And I am here to offer my assistance to _you_. To you, the Chosen One, The-Boy-Who-Lived... _Azor Ahai reborn_."

"_Azor what_?" He asked her puzzled.

"_Azor Ahai_. The one to fight the darkness and the cold. The one they call the Warrior of Light, the Son of Fire, the Prince that was promised." She explained and gave him a discerning look as if he didn't know something that was common knowledge.

_Does this mean Voldemort symbolizes the darkness and I am this Azor Ahai guy because I fight him? _He wondered and looked at her questioningly. "You think I am this Azor Ahai? Why?"

"It is only a possibility. There is another one, another candidate. R'hllor shall guide me and show me who the true Azor Ahai is."

Harry didn't understand her. R'hllor, Azor Ahai... What was she talking about? He had never heard of these names before or what they meant.

"I don't know this Rollor person." Harry began, and was unsure for a brief moment if he had said this strange name correctly.

"And I can't see the connection between us. Merlin's beard, I don't even know how you got the idea that I could be this Son of Fire." He hoped she would stop talking in riddles. Hermione would probably know what this was all about but unfortunately he wasn't the Know-it-all genius in their group.

The woman in red smiled. It was a smile of a patient teacher who knew she had to teach something difficult to her student. "R'hllor is the God of Flame, the Lord of Light and I am his servant."

"But how can your god tell you that I am this person you seek? I'm not a great wizard like Dumbledore, I'm just a boy who survived a Killing Curse because my mother had protected me, sacrificing her own life to save me. There's nothing special about me."

She shook her head slowly. "Oh no, you _are_ special, Harry Potter. I have seen _you_ in my fires and my fires are never wrong."

"What can you see?" Harry asked her curiously. Divination had never been his strong suit and he never paid much attention to Professor Trelawney's class. At least he could tell that this woman probably used fire-omens to foretell the future.

"I see much and more. I can see through stone and earth, and I can speak to people long dead and children not yet born. I watch months, years and centuries pass until everything dies, until the end of days." She gave him a knowing smile. "And I _see you_, Harry."

"Can you see my future?" He asked her and immediately felt his heart rate increasing. Did he really want to know his future? Wouldn't it be better to let everything unfold how it was meant to be? You were not supposed to change the future. Well, he had already done that as he had helped Sirius Black escape from his prison by using Hermione's Time-Turner. He had saved two lives that day and he'd do it again. If there was a slight chance to save someone from death, he wouldn't hesitate to try.

"Your future is shrouded in darkness, the possibilities are always changing. But I can see one thing clearly. Your god-father, Sirius Black will die. I see him alone in a dark corridor, surrounded by his enemies. And the one who kills him is the one who shall not be named. I have seen this vision plain as day. I assure you, it will happen. Soon."

_Voldemort will kill Sirius? That can't be. I have to warn him. He's the only family I have left in this world._

"No. Not Sirius. _Not him_." He whispered in a hoarse voice.

Harry saw her stepping forward. The red sorceress was so close to him that he could feel her warmth. The air was hot and dry now, like a radiator on high. The ruby at her throat gleamed like crimson fire, like a third eye that shone brighter than her eyes. "Do not despair, young one. The future is not set in stone and together we can change it. Sirius is not lost to you. We can save him from the dark. The powers of darkness shall not affect us, they can't harm the ones whose hearts are bathed in R'hllor's holy fire."

"I'm afraid I'm not a religious person, my lady." He stated with a thin smile.

"You don't have to be. It is only important to believe in the light, Harry."

The red priestess put a hand on his shoulder. It was a gesture of reassurance, to calm and to comfort him. Her hand lightly squeezed him, her heat was like fire rushing through his entire body. Her eyes were like two stars shining in the night as she looked down on him. "Everytime I gaze into the flames I see you. I see you facing many enemies and suffering many hardships. My flames show you in mourning. You will lose many dear friends and you have to carry a heavy burden. I am certain that you may need me as much as I may need you. Together we shall fight the ones who chose darkness. Together we shall keep the night at bay."

She held out her hand, little flames were dancing around her fingers. "Take my hand, Harry. Accept my help and we shall save the world from darkness."

Harry stared at her hand and felt his skin prickling. She was powerful, he couldn't deny it. If she would become his ally, there was nothing more to fear. But could he trust her? That was the question echoing in his mind. Would it be the right decision? Would it really be helpful to have a religious zealot at his side? Tyrion had been right. Melisandre was strange and maybe she was a serious case for St. Mungo's hospital.

_If she joins me I will fight fire with fire_. He thought.

When she saw that Harry hesitated and didn't move, she asked him softly. "Do you fear me?"

He shook his head. "No, it's just... I don't know you and I'm not sure if I can trust you."

Melisandre raised an eyebrow. "You think I am evil?"

"No." He quickly said.

"I assure you, I am a champion of light. Just like you are. The darkness falls heavy on this world and we both have to stand together, my young friend. Because the night is dark and full of terrors. But I won't lie to you either. In order to save your loved ones you have to make sacrifices. If you are not willing to agree, I shall not be able to assist you."

"_Sacrifices_? What must I sacrifice?" He didn't like it at all. Would he have to sacrifice someone else to save Sirius Black? That would be a terrible prize to pay. But still, if it meant to save his life he'd do anything.

"All in due time, Harry. Come now, have no fear and take my hand." She urged and offered him her hand again. This time the young wizard didn't falter and took her warm hand in his. If he could save Sirius' life and end this war, he had to take his chances.

He nodded. "I accept your help, Lady Melisandre."

"A wise decision, Harry Potter. We shall see each other very soon. Not in a dream but in reality. Until then, farewell." He watched as the red-haired woman disappeared in a glowing ball of fire, the light's intensity temporarily blinding his vision. The fireball exploded in front of him and he felt a heat wave washing over him. It felt like he was drowning in those flames, like they were devouring him.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

His eyes snapped open instantly as he shot up in bed. Harry took a deep calming breath and reminded himself that it was only a dream. He was still in the Black family's residence at Grimmauld Place and there was no sorceress standing in his bedroom.

The young wizard realized that he wasn't alone here. Tyrion Lannister stood beside his bed with a worried expression on his face. The little man wore a doublet of black velvet covered with a heavy crimson cloak richly worked with golden lions. His small hand held a glass filled with Firewhisky.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just had a weird dream." Harry said.

He gave him a crooked smile. "A weird dream, huh? I have weird dreams all the time."

"Do your dreams also involve a certain red priestess named Melisandre?" Harry asked him.

"No, unfortunately not. And the gods know how much I fancy red hair. Well, at least my dreams are also highly amusing. My sweet sister would look at me the same way she looks at Jaime and give me a loving kiss. And my dear father would finally tell me I'm the son he always wanted, the true heir of Casterly Rock." He chuckled dryly. "The chances of that happening are exceedingly low but one can dream, right?"

Tyrion's facial expression turned serious again. "So, you met our charming red sorceress. A real beauty, isn't she? What did she tell you?"

"Many things." Harry began. "For one, she mentioned I may be Azor Ahai reborn. Do you know what this means?"

"_Azor Ahai_?", Tyrion repeated slowly and took a sip from his whisky. "Are you sure, Harry? Did she really say Azor Ahai?"

The boy didn't like the look in Tyrion's mismatched eyes. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" He wanted to know. _Please let it be a good thing._

The dwarf frowned. "I don't know, it depends how you look at it, I guess. But to tell you truly, I've always taken a prophecy with a pinch of salt. Do you still want to hear the tale about Azor Ahai?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, tell me. I think I need to know, it might be important."

Tyrion waddled closer and claimed a chair beside his bed and started. "Darkness lay over the world and a hero, Azor Ahai, was chosen to fight against it. But our hero needed to forge a hero's sword. So he laboured for thirty days and thirty nights until it was done. However, when he went to temper it in water, the sword broke. He was not one to give up easily, so he started all over again. The second time he took fifty days and fifty nights to make the sword. To temper it this time, he captured a lion and drove the sword into its heart, but once more the steel shattered. The third time he worked for a hundred days and nights until it was finished. This time, he called for his wife and asked her to bare her breast. He drove his sword into her body, her soul combining with the steel of the sword, creating the hero's sword Lightbringer. It is said that one day Azor Ahai is to be reborn again. According to the prophecy this will occur when cold darkness descends upon the world. The Prince that was promised shall wield Lightbringer again and if he fails, the world shall perish with him."

Harry fingered his glasses and swallowed. He always did that when he felt nervous or strained. "Melisandre had said something about making a sacrifice. Could this be related to this tale? Azor Ahai had to sacrifice his wife to forge his sword."

"Who knows? If I were you I'd think carefully what to do next. To win a war with Melisandre's wicked sorcery and with the help of her terrible red god can't be a good thing, I might say."

Harry snorted. "It was you who chose her guidance first."

The little Lannister Lord smiled. "Well, you know me, Harry. It isn't in my nature to reject a beautiful lady."

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "Yeah, how could I forget that?"

"We have all the time to worry about Melisandre later. For now you should make yourself presentable. Today is your big day, my friend." Tyrion winked and stood up.

"The conference." Harry murmured.

"Oh yes, all the lords and ladies are coming to meet the famous Boy-Who-Lived. You should feel honoured."

"I feel _terrible_." Harry said and wished he could disappear from the face of the earth for a while. He was used to be the centre of attention but still, he preferred to avoid it. _I am just an ordinary wizard. __Why can't they treat me like one instead of viewing me as an odd celebrity? _

Tyrion grinned. "Don't worry. Everything will be just fine. I'll make sure you don't step on the toes of these high lords and ladies."

The small man then pointed at custom-made clothes that he had procured for him. "The finest silk and satin, Harry. With these you'll have the air of a young king."

_I don't want to look like a king. _He thought as he pulled on the velvet black trousers and a fine satin doublet in Gryffindor scarlet and gold.

Harry stared at his own reflection in the mirror and sighed. _That's not me. I'm not a lord or some high-ranking nobleman._ _If my cousin Dudley could see me now he'd probably laugh. _

Hermione and Ron stormed into his bedroom and made long faces. To his surprise his best friends felt as uncomfortable in their unusual clothing as Harry.

Hermione wore a beautiful shining gown of light-blue satin and for a long moment Harry just gaped at her with an open mouth. It was seldom to see his bookworm friend dressed like that and he couldn't help but admire her prettiness.

But Hermione seemed rather unhappy and fiddled the sleeves of her gown. "Merlin's beard! Look at the size of that thing! I feel like a church bell!"

"No, you look beautiful." Harry assured her.

Tyrion Lannister nodded. "Indeed, my lady. You are a beauty to behold. I'm sure all eyes will be on you this day."

The girl stared down at her dress and her face reddened. "Your words flatter me, my lord. You're too kind."

Tyrion gave her a wink. "I'm only stating the truth." Hermione blushed deeply again as they both smiled at each other. Harry had noticed that those two got along very well. They both shared their interests in books and in these last few days he often saw them studying late into the night together. They would sit on the couch in the living room and discuss all kinds of magical literature and historical books. Tyrion used to say that a mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone and Hermione couldn't agree more.

Harry and Ron spent a lot of their time with Tyrion's companion, the sellsword named Bronn. He'd give them lessons in swordfighting and battle strategies. But Harry also had many lessons with Tyrion. The subject had been everything related to the great houses and he had to memorise their history, their sigils and their words. The most tiring task had been the study of all those high lords and ladies names and their relations to each other. They were so many of them and Tyrion wanted to make sure he could tell them apart. That meant lots of seemingly endless hours studying family trees and repeating their names over and over again till he was able to recite them in his sleep. There were times he felt his head might explode by the sheer information overload.

He was glad that all his studies were over for now and that he could put his newly acquired knowledge to the test today. Ron coughed and looked at them helplessly. "You all look great. Even you, mate. But I feel out of place with this dress here."

The young Weasley boy fumbled his ruffs and cuffs, surveying himself in the mirror with a frown. Ron was right, his traditional clothes that his mother had given him looked out of fashion and he really stood out in that dress.

Harry patted his shoulder. "Ron, it's only for today. You don't have to wear this again."

"Yeah, Harry. But still... I don't want to be a laughing matter." He muttered with a gloomy look on his face.

"No one will laugh, I promise." said Harry and Hermione gave him a nod.

Ron sighed. "Let's just hope I don't meet a beautiful princess. I'd hate it to look like a fool."

"A fool, young Weasley? But why, if I'm not mistaken I'm the dwarf here. That would be _my_ job." Tyrion smirked and Ron smiled back at him.

Bronn entered the room now. He wore his usual dark leather armor and apparently he didn't feel the need to dress like a lord. The sellsword beckoned them to come. "It's time. Our guests have arrived."

Harry gulped and adjusted his glasses nervously. "I'd rather fight a dragon again than having to attend this conference."

"Ah, Harry. You will soon understand that a conference can be highly enjoyable too." Tyrion said and turned to Bronn. "So, which families have graced us with their presence, Bronn?"

"We have representatives from House Tyrell, House Baratheon, House Martell and House Lannister." The dark-haired man announced with his deep voice.

"House Lannister, Bronn? Are you jesting?" The little man arched an eyebrow and pointed at himself with his index finger, as if he wanted to say that he's the only Lannister here.

"Do I look like a clown to you, halfman? No, your uncle is here. He said he's the envoy of Tywin Lannister." Bronn grumbled.

"That would be my uncle, Kevan Lannister." Tyrion commented dryly.

"Is he like your father?" Harry asked him, already feeling a lump in his throat. He still had all the stories about Tywin Lannister in his head and according to Tyrion his father was rather difficult to deal with.

"No, you will find that my uncle is quite a noble person. If one would search for one good soul amongst my family members it would be him." Tyrion explained and gestured them to follow him. "Well, let's get going. We shouldn't keep our guests waiting."


	8. Gathering of the Great Houses

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

_Author's Note: A long chapter again and I had to move the last part of this chapter into the next one. So we'll see Casterly Rock and all the other characters next time. And thanks for the reviews, it's really much appreciated._ :)

* * *

><p>The Serpent and the Lion<p>

~Chapter 7: Gathering of the Great Houses~

Harry and his small group were accompanied by two members of the Order of the Phoenix, his godfather Sirius Black and Professor Remus Lupin. At first they had recommended Albus Dumbledore. As the founder of the Order he had been their first choice to lead this gathering. However the headmaster of Hogwarts excused himself for his absence, telling them he had important work to do. So it fell to Sirius and Remus to represent the Order and its members. Tyrion had advised them to involve as few people as possible. This conference had to be kept a secret. Not only because of Lord Voldemort but also because of the Ministry of Magic. Minister Fudge would probably want to arrange this meeting in public and Tyrion couldn't allow that to happen.

Harry had agreed and he also believed it was better this way. After Cedric Diggory's death the Ministry still doubted Voldemort's return. Why should Fudge join a conference concerning the Dark Lord if he didn't accept the rumours as true?

As Harry descended the stairs and walked through the hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place he felt his jaw drop. It was as if he had stepped into another world. There were colourful banners all over the place. Heavy yellow curtains and beautiful decoration had turned the whole hall gold and silver. There were guards and knights from several houses standing alongside both sides of the walls, guarding the meeting room's entrance. They all looked stunning in their shining armour and flowing cloaks, showing their respective house-colours. It was a sight that took your breath away. Harry glimpsed his two friends who were equally fascinated and in awe as he was. Thanks to his studies he knew the banners which were displayed here. He was able to discern between them, recognizing the colours and sigils of the different houses.

The banner he spotted the first and which had been the easiest to identify was the one of House Lannister. A golden lion on a field of crimson red. He also recognized the sigil of House Martell, an orange banner revealing a red sun pierced by a gold spear. And just behind that banner was the sigil of House Tyrell, a gold rose on a green banner. But there was also a banner he couldn't classify. It showed a stag enclosed within a red heart surrounded by a blaze of orange fire on a field of yellow.

He gave Tyrion a questioning look, pointing at the banner with the stag and the red heart. "Do you know which banner this is?"

Tyrion followed his gaze. "Ah, that must be the banner of Stannis Baratheon. But I don't know why he changed his sigil. A heart on fire is rather odd."

"I wonder why there are no representatives of the other great houses. The Starks, the Arryns and the Greyjoys are absent." Harry observed.

"It's understandable why the Starks preferred not to leave and continue to freeze at their cold castle in Winterfell. The oldest Stark daughter, Sansa Stark is betrothed to my beloved nephew Joffrey. They would risk Lord Tywin's anger if they would join the conference of the enemy. Lord Eddard Stark may have a lot of snow in his ears, nevertheless he was wise enough not to come here. As for the Arryns... Well, Lady Arryn is a craven woman and after the death of her lord husband she has never left the Eyrie again. But trust me, you wouldn't miss her, she is...", Tyrion turned to Bronn as if he was searching for the right words to describe her. "How would you call it, my friend?"

"Complicated, mad, insane, sadistic, hysterical and more." Bronn specified flatly.

"Ah yes. But you forgot to add her tendency to throw people out of the moon door to your list, Bronn." The dwarf corrected him with a grin.

The sellsword rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah. _That _too."

"What is a _moon door_?" Harry asked them.

Tyrion and Bronn both looked at each other for a moment and all of a sudden Tyrion's expression turned serious. "Trust me, Harry. You _don't_ want to know."

"Ok." The young wizard gulped and decided to ask him about the Greyjoys. "And what about House Greyjoy?"

"The kraken? I somehow anticipated they might stay away from here. As long as this war doesn't take place at sea, Balon Greyjoy simply doesn't care about it. No matter, Harry. We have guests from four Great Houses and that in itself is quite remarkable. If you would've asked me some days ago I would have guessed no one would attend. So you see, your name alone was enough to summon them. You should feel proud and honoured." Tyrion explained and his godfather Sirius Black nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. "He's right, Harry. These lords and ladies were curious about you and that is probably the main reason for their arrival. You should try to use your name to your advantage."

Before they could discuss this any further they were greeted by a middle-aged man. Harry guessed he was in his early fifties and judging by the look of his armour, this had to be Tyrion's uncle, Kevan Lannister. It was a scaled crimson armour decorated with a golden lion emblem on both shoulders.

"Uncle,", Tyrion welcomed him, "What a pleasure to find you here."

"Tyrion." The man with short grey hair said, his green eyes studying him warily.

"So, what brings you here?" Tyrion asked.

"Your _father_. He wonders what you're trying to accomplish here." Kevan replied.

Tyrion smiled. "You know, there are often times I am wondering that _myself_."

His uncle folded his arms and stared at him. "Please Tyrion. I'm serious. This is not the right time for your japes."

"Do you hear me laughing, uncle? Believe me, I am perfectly serious. I only try to assist my young friend here. To help him in any _small way_ I can." And with this he gestured to Harry, turning his uncle's attention to him now.

"May I present the _Boy-Who-Lived_, the so-called _Chosen One_, _Harry James Potter._" Tyrion announced joyfully and Harry instantly shifted his weight from one leg to the other, feeling slightly uneasy in the older man's presence.

But to his surprise the grave expression on Kevan's face changed to a warm, kindly smile. "Harry Potter. I didn't know you were still so young. You must be the same age as my son Lancel."

"I'm sixteen, ser."

"Sixteen... ", he murmured in a thoughtful tone. "So young... It must be hard to carry such a heavy burden on your shoulders. I have to admit I admire your courage, young man."

Harry gave the old man a curt bow. "Thank you, ser."

Kevan's eyes returned to his nephew. "I'm not here to disturb this conference, Tyrion. I shall not participate and only observe your meeting from a respectable distance."

"Very well, feel free to take a seat and watch the spectacle." The little lord wanted to go to the meeting room's entrance but he paused and turned around to face his uncle again. "Are there any news of my beloved siblings, uncle? I may not love my sweet sister much but she and Jaime are still my family."

Kevan gave his nephew an anxious look. "Haven't you heard? Your brother is being held captive at Malfoy Manor and Cersei is Voldemort's hostage too. And what's worse he has also given her his Dark Mark. She is a Death Eater now."

Harry and his friends exchanged worried glances while he heard Sirius and Remus whispering behind him. These were indeed unexpected news. Harry knew well how Tyrion felt about his family. Although he disliked them they still meant everything to him. In some ways Harry could relate to his feelings. He hated the Dursleys with a passion and there were times where he wished he wouldn't have to see them again. Nevertheless they were part of his family and he wouldn't want them to be harmed either.

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. "Cersei a Death Eater? I'm not sure if I should laugh or cry now. On one hand she might deserve this... being in this predicament. But on the other hand...", he sighed, "Well, she's still my sister. And Jaime in a cell? He must be bored to death there. Father is probably not amused, I would say."

Kevan's green eyes glinted. "Your lord father is more than indignant about this matter. You know him better than I do. He sees Voldemort's recent actions as an insult to our family. Trust me, he won't keep still for long."

"If you need help against You-Know-Who..." Harry volunteered but Kevan shook his head. "This is our responsibility, not yours. Even so I am grateful for your offer, young Potter."

"I've told you several times. _A Lannister always pays his debts_, Harry. We shouldn't intervene here." Tyrion reminded him and walked forward as the first one to enter the room.

_This is it. You can do this, Harry!_ The young wizard took one deep breath and exhaled slowly. Ron clapped his back. "We're with you, mate."

Hermione nodded. "Ron is right. We're all here, you're not alone."

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

They all entered the Order's meeting room together and stopped as they felt all pairs of eyes turning to them. Their guests were standing in little groups, every family intent on keeping to themselves. Each one of them looked very impressive in their extraordinary attire, all dressed in their finest silk and velvet.

The first one who approached them was a Tyrell knight. He was still young, Harry guessed they were maybe at the same age. Ser Loras Tyrell. Harry knew from his studies that he was the youngest Tyrell son and that he was known as the knight of flowers. A good-looking man with brown curly hair and eyes shining like liquid gold. His armour was glittering in silver-white colours and the metal was adorned and enamelled as a bouquet of roses

Acting like a gentleman he took Hermione's hand in his and kissed it. "A rose for a rose." he spoke with a soft voice as he handed her a red rose. "Although I am afraid that even the world's most beautiful rose cannot compare to your beauty. You look lovely, my lady."

Hermione went pink and for a second Harry thought his friend was speechless. She gave him a polite nod, her hazelnut-brown eyes looking up to him. "Thank you, Ser Loras."

_Ron won't like this. _Harry immediately thought and glanced at his friend who looked daggers at the young knight.

Ron mimicked Loras Tyrell in a low voice, repeating _'A rose for a rose' _in an exaggerated tone_,_ his face showing a sour expression. Harry held back his laughter as Loras turned to him now, shaking his hand. "Harry Potter, it is an honour. We've heard so much about you. Come, you must meet my grandmother, the Lady Olenna. She and my sister Margaery are eager to see you."

As they followed him to the two Tyrell women, he heard Tyrion talking to him in a low voice. "Olenna Tyrell. She may look like your typical harmless, nice and kind granny but she isn't. Remember, looks can be deceiving. They don't call her the Queen of Thorns for nothing. Be careful you don't cut yourself."

"Er, yeah." Harry mumbled in response. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, beating louder and louder like a drum. But the reason was not Olenna Tyrell. He had only eyes for Loras' sister, Lady Margaery. She was divine like an angel, a heavenly goddess, an ethereal being not from this earth. Time stood still for a long wonderful moment. Everything else became blurry, only she remained clear.

Margaery was dressed in a gown of brilliant green with a golden cloak around her shoulders, emblazoned with many little roses and flowers. She slowly ran a hand through her long brown hair, her light-brown eyes shining brightly as they met his emerald ones. Harry just stood there, unmoving like a statue, frozen in place. His thoughts were running wild in his mind while his insides were writhing like snakes.

It was the same feeling he had back then when he had attempted to ask Cho Chang to go to the Yule Ball with him. He had been so pathetic that day and didn't want to repeat his foolish behaviour again. In his mind he was already searching for the right words, for a suitable and charming compliment. But there was nothing. Inside his head was a black hole, blank and empty. His nervousness grew with every passing second. He was unable to arrange his thoughts and think of something coherent.

Harry's fingers played with his glasses now and he tried to look away, acting as if he was busy cleaning his spectacles as his hand reached to his pockets for a tissue.

"Harry Potter." she called him.

_What a sweet voice she has..._

The young man felt incredibly hot, as if all the heat of his body was gathering in his head. _My face must be as red as a tomato._ He thought nervously.

"I am so pleased to meet you. May I call you _Harry_?" Margaery asked, her brown eyes shining with joy.

His face reddened even more and he stammered. "Er, y-yes. Harry... that's my name."

She chuckled heartily and kissed his cheek. "Ah, you're so cute, Harry."

Harry didn't know what to say, standing in front of her, bewildered and spellbound.

_This must be heaven._

"Mate, introduce us. You can't just have her all for yourself, you know." Ron whispered in his ear in a sulky tone.

Harry nodded, his head moving automatically like a nodding dog. He wasn't really listening what Ron wanted from him. Truth be told he didn't even care. Unfortunately his daydream didn't last that long. He was soon thrown out of his state of intoxication as an old woman came closer to him. He could faintly hear Margaery's voice, her words sounding muffled. It sounded like she was speaking to him underwater. "May I present my grandmother, Lady Olenna Tyrell, mother of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden."

"Don't just stand there like a frozen ice-sculpture, child. Give this old lady a kiss." The old woman demanded rather impatiently, her breath smelling like sour milk in his nose. Olenna Tyrell was petite, with her long white hair she almost looked like a small doll. The Tyrell lady wore an elegant dark green gown, very similar to Margaery's gown.

She offered him her soft-spotted hand. Harry blinked a few seconds as if he was trying to remember what the proper etiquette was. He then bent down and kissed the back of her hand hesitantly.

"Now, child. Be so kind and introduce us to your...", she eyed Tyrion and Sirius carefully, "_friends_."

The young wizard cleared his throat and started with Ron and Hermione. "These are my two friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, they are my classmates at Hogwarts."

Margaery hugged Hermione. "Hermione, we shall be sisters."

And she turned to Ron and kissed his cheek. "And it is a pleasure to meet you, Ron. Harry's friends are also our friends."

Ron managed to thank her, his face red and his hands nervously tugging at his shirt.

Lady Olenna took a closer look at Hermione's light-blue gown. "Hm, you do look exquisite, child. I compliment your fine taste."

The bushy-haired girl took a bow. "Thank you, my lady."

Olenna's mouth began to twist while she began to study Ron's clothing, shaking her head as if she felt somehow offended by this sight.

His buddy seemed embarrassed, wanting to hide beneath a rock and never come out again. Thankfully Margaery came to his aid. "Grandmother, please. Don't give him that look, what will Ron think of us?"

She gave Ron a warm smile. "You seem to favour a traditional attire, Ron. I assure you, this is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Y-yes, thank you, Lady Margaery." Ron muttered and shyly looked away again.

Her grandmother regarded Tyrion Lannister now. "The _Imp_. Lord Tywin's youngest son. I certainly remember _you_."

"Lady Olenna, it is _so good_ to see you again." Tyrion smiled thinly and bowed in an exaggerated manner.

The old Tyrell lady sniffed and turned to Bronn. "And who might you be? The dwarf's toady? Let me guess, you must be his lordship's _wet nurse_."

Bronn grimaced. "The name's Bronn, m'lady. And I'm Lord Tyrion's personal bodyguard."

"Bronn here may be a gruff fellow but he's undeniably useful. And he doesn't eat much and is easy to handle." Tyrion added, showing a crooked smile while Bronn rolled his eyes. "Why, thank you dwarf."

The little Lannister lord grinned. "You're welcome, my friend."

"Ah yes, bodyguards. I have two of those myself. But I always seem to forget their names. That is why I call them Left and Right. Left and Right, say hello to our friends here." Lady Olenna waved her hand at her guards, the motion much the same way she would wave a fan.

The two Tyrell guards were very tall and muscular, wearing a grim expression on their faces. They were in stark contrast to the small grandmother, two giants standing behind a small woman. "Hello." they said in unison, looking like an odd pair of twins.

Harry was glad to see that his godfather Sirius and Remus Lupin stepped forward and introduced themselves without his help. The old lady gave Sirius an alert look. "_Black_? The criminal who fled from Azkaban Prison?"

"A misunderstanding, my lady. I had been thrown into Azkaban for a crime I didn't commit." Sirius made clear.

Olenna's eyes lingered on Sirius for a very long moment and turned to Harry again. "I see you believe him, child. Very well, we shall do the same."

"Remus Lupin.", she said, becoming aware of his former professor and studying him now, "I've heard you're a Defence against the Dark arts professor at Hogwarts."

"I _was_, my lady. I've resigned from my position." Remus explained.

"Such a loss. Well, my dear son would welcome you in Highgarden. We always need highly skilled wizards to train our children. It would be indeed a pity to waste such talent, Professor." Olenna suggested.

But Remus declined her offer. "I support the Order of the Phoenix. There's no time to work as a Professor again, I'm afraid."

Before Olenna could continue to persuade Lupin to work for her family she was interrupted by her granddaughter. "Harry, please. Promise us to visit us in France. You can also bring your friends with you. We could have so much fun together. My father has all the best singers at court and we have a boat to sail along the river if you want to. And horses, Harry. We can ride through our castle gardens. I'm sure you will love it. Once you see it you'll never want to leave again, I promise you."

"Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun." Harry murmured absent-mindedly, already thinking how it would be like to spend more time with Margaery Tyrell.

"Count me in." Ron said enthusiastically while Hermione nodded in agreement. "Me too, my lady."

Loras gave the two boys a polite smile. "I could teach you how to joust, Harry. Trust me, it is even more exciting than a magical duel."

Olenna snorted. "Why is it that you men love it so much to knock down other people with a stick? I can't think of anything more boring than that."

"You're a woman, grandmother. You _can't_ understand this." Loras said, sounding slightly annoyed as if they already had this discussion more than just once.

"What is there to understand, son?" The Queen of Thorns asked and snorted again. "You men seem to have your heads somewhere else. Just like my late husband, the good Lord Luthor. He managed to fall off a cliff while looking up at the sky and paying no mind to his surroundings. _Men_, I tell you. Always daydreaming."

"Her poor husband probably fell down that cliff on purpose, I would say." Tyrion commented dryly, his voice so low that only Harry would be able to hear him.

But the wrinkled old woman gave Tyrion Lannister a toothless smile. "I may be old, little dwarf. But these old ears are not deaf yet."

"Ah, it's indeed a pleasant surprise that your hearing isn't deteriorating, Lady Olenna." Tyrion stated, not hiding the sarcasm in his voice.

Olenna Tyrell opened her mouth to retort but paused as they all heard a male voice behind them. "I was beginning to wonder if the greedy roses want to have the _Chosen One_ all for themselves. We are also here, as you might have noticed."

From the corner of his eye Harry noticed Tyrion growing very tense and he instantly knew what this meant. It had to be someone from House Martell. It was no secret that there was no love between the Tyrells and the Martells. Tyrion had warned him to consider this and to choose his words carefully. He faced the Martell delegation now and was surprised they were only two. A man and a woman. The man was a tall and graceful figure. He wore a copper-coloured armour engraved with the sun and spear of his house, with a dark red cloak falling from his shoulders. You could see that the Martells came from the far south. His skin was tanned, burned light-brown from the African sun and his facial expression was cheerless, with eyes as dark as night and shoulder-length black hair. Beside the man stood an attractive woman clad in an elegant dark orange gown with flowing sleeves and a jewelled belt around her waist. In her black eyes flickered something as her gaze momentarily moved over Harry's body. What was it? Amusement? Curiosity? He couldn't quite say.

Tyrion addressed them. "Greetings to you, my friends. It is an honour to welcome guests from Dorne. May I inquire, are you Prince Doran Martell? I've heard you would be older."

The Dornishman shook his head. "Due to my brother's health Prince Doran didn't have the ability to attend. I am here in his stead. Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne, as it pleases you." The Dornish prince gestured to his company. "And permit me to acquaint you with Ellaria Sand, my own paramour."

Tyrion smiled thinly, the tension didn't leave his body. _No wonder_, thought Harry. They both had reckoned on Doran Martell to visit them. The Lord of Sunspear was a calm, collected and thoughtful man and he had been their best choice to gain as a potential ally. Instead they now faced his younger brother Oberyn.

A man everyone called and feared as the Red Viper. Oberyn Martell was truly a sneaky snake because he favoured to fight with a poisoned spear. It was said his enemies, or rather his victims had to suffer a long period of time, his poison giving them the most painful and agonizing deaths. But that was not the primary reason why Tyrion was so worried. Oberyn was also known for his short temper and his bloodthirstiness. The Red Viper might start a war when facing the slightest hint of provocation. Harry knew they had to be very careful now, they tread dangerous ground here. Especially now where he remembered from his studies that it had been Oberyn Martell who had crippled the oldest Tyrell son during a joust. One wrong word and these two families could be at each other's throats soon. A horrible scenario which had to be avoided at any cost.

Prince Oberyn eyed Tyrion, a mocking edge in his voice. "I didn't know the great _Harry Potter_ would choose a lord of Lannister to welcome us. The _smallest_ of the Lannister family, to be more precise."

Harry wanted to step in, to defend his little friend. However Tyrion quickly turned his head to him, implying he wanted to deal with this man on his own. The little man straightened himself, his face showing a lop-sided grin. "I may be the _smallest_, my lord, yet they also call me the _prettiest_ of my family."

"Our views regarding prettiness seem to differ greatly, Lord Tyrion." The Dornish prince said dryly.

The dwarf grinned. "Well, they say beauty is a subjective quality, is it not? I've heard you prefer blonde women. I'm sure you'd love to meet my sister Cersei, my lord."

The Martell lord chuckled lightly. "You are an amusing little creature."

"I try my best." Tyrion admitted.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you do. Speaking of beauty... Ellaria and I have very special and refined tastes. You should know we prefer both, women and men. We make no differences here." Oberyn looked at Harry now, observing his face and staring at the lightning scar on his forehead. "I have to confess we haven't had a pretty boy yet. Our young Boy-Who-Lived would be an intriguing choice. Don't you agree, my love?"

His paramour, Ellaria Sand nodded, her black eyes shining. "Indeed, he's quite a handsome lad."

Harry swallowed, feeling rather exposed under their gaze as if someone had stripped his clothing and left him standing naked before them. _Merlin, what's wrong with these people?_ He asked himself and mumbled. "I'm not interested in, er, _such a thing_, my lord."

Oberyn shrugged. "A pity. But we will be waiting for you, should you have a change of heart."

_Yeah, as if that will ever happen._ Harry thought.

Olenna Tyrell regarded the Dornish delegation impatiently. "By your leave you may have no objections to take our seats at the table now. My legs are very tired."

Without waiting for their confirmation the Tyrell lady waved at her personal guards, snapping at them. "Left! Right! Take me to a chair! I'm on the verge of falling asleep here!"

They all took their seats at the table now. The only exception was Kevan Lannister. Tyrion's uncle stood in the far corner of the room and nobody seemed to be aware of his presence. They probably thought he was some Lannister guard.

As the one who had invited them all to Grimmauld Place, Harry had the honour to sit at the head of the wooden meeting table. Yet the dark-haired boy didn't like to be in the spotlight. He would've gladly asked someone else to take his place. Ron or Hermione would without a doubt fare way better than him. Fortunately Tyrion sat close beside his chair, should Harry need his counsel.

Harry scanned the attendants sitting at the table and only noticed by now, one family was still missing. House Baratheon. He had seen some of their guards outside but Lord Stannis was nowhere to be seen.

"Tyrion, where is Lord Stannis?" Harry asked and Tyrion shrugged in response.

Right on cue the Lord of Dragonstone entered the meeting room, following closely at his heels was a beautiful woman clad in thin robes of crimson silk, with copper-red hair.

_Melisandre..._ Harry thought, taken aback by her unexpected presence and feeling the temperature rising around him. He instantly remembered her warning, her foretelling of Sirius' death at Voldemort's hands. _I have to tell Sirius soon. He must know this._

"Look, who we have here. The lobster finally arrived.", Olenna Tyrell remarked dryly as she spotted him. A tall man in his late thirties, dressed in plain dark leather armour and brown breeches.

Lord Stannis ground his teeth and pierced her with his cold gaze. "I won't take insults from an old thorny rose, m'lady."

The old woman gave him a wrinkled smile. "Yes, yes, still as charming as I remember you."

Stannis looked irritated as if someone had stepped over his toes. Tyrion had told Harry that this lord was a humourless and brooding man who took every spoken word very seriously. To Harry this was more than obvious. The bald man wore a strict expression on his facial features, his mouth was a straight thin line, pale lips and clenched muscles, suggesting he was someone who never smiled or didn't even know how to smile.

He took his seat at the table and Melisandre stood behind him like a ghost, a beautiful nightmare in red, her scarlet eyes wandering over every single man and woman.

Stannis' eyes were a deep blue, as dark as the ocean by night. His eyes moved to Harry and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, barely able to stand those cold eyes of his.

"_Harry Potter_." Lord Stannis addressed him with chill courtesy. "I think we can skip all the pleasantries and get straight to the point. You called us to help you against this Dark Lord who is threatening the whole Wizarding World. Let me speak frankly...", he pointed a finger at him, "You may be a hero here in Britain but you're still a green boy and I won't take orders from you._ I am_ the rightful king here and you should all swear fealty _to me_. I demand your loyalty and your obedience."

"And what gives you the notion to be our king now?" Lady Olenna asked, sitting a few seats away from him. "As far as I know the dragon was our last king and gods forbid, we don't need another one."

Oberyn Martell nodded. "The rose is rarely right but this time I agree. Our family was loyal to King Aerys of House Targaryen. After the rebellion your brother Robert denied the throne and we all resumed to rule over our own territories again. It all works perfectly well. Why should we change that?"

"The iron throne is rightfully mine by the grace of the Lord of Light. Everyone who denies that shall be my enemy." The Lord of Dragonstone grumbled, clenching his jaw.

The old lady studied the red sorceress behind him, "We don't worship your red god, Lord Stannis." and she sighed, "Why is it that men have this queer notion they are fit to be king? The thought of putting a crown on their heads and sitting on that ugly throne seems to cloud their judgement. Well, they are all oafs in my eyes. I call this foolishness delusions of grandeur. And speaking of fools, our dark snake lord has the same notion somehow. Ruler of the Wizarding World... Ridiculous! Mayhaps he should put a crown on his Slytherin snake, that might make him happy."

"Voldemort shall be put to the sword as everyone else who opposes me." Stannis snorted and ignored the Tyrell Lady, turning to Harry again.

"I ask you again, boy." His dark-blue eyes bore into him, sharp as a dagger's edge. "Will the Order of the Phoenix serve me and lend me their strength? You're not blind. Surely you see you're not capable to lead an army."

"I-I...", Harry muttered nervously, not really sure what to say and feeling a huge lump in his throat.

Tyrion's words resurfaced in his mind again. Something he had told him a few days ago during their studies. _Stannis may be a proven battle-commander but he inspires no love or loyalty. No one will follow him, Harry. You must make him understand he should be the one to follow you. But this will __prove to be quite difficult. Lord Stannis is hard as steel. He will never bend._

_I'm the Chosen One._ Harry thought. _He can't ignore this._

His godfather seemed to have read his thoughts because he spoke for Harry now. "Harry Potter _is_ the Chosen One." Sirius said in an unwavering tone, stating it as an undeniable fact as one would claim the sky is blue. And his godfather went on. "Only he and Albus Dumbledore can lead the Order."

Stannis sat there, unmoved. "He is _not_ the Chosen One. _I am_." And to emphasize his words he stood up and drew his sword, a bright blade shimmering in red, white, yellow and orange lights, its steel glinting like sunlight on a water's surface. A red ruby was set in the hilt of his sword, it was very similar to the great ruby Lady Melisandre wore around her neck.

The red sorceress spread her arms in an all encompassing gesture, turning everyone's attention to the shining sword. Her red eyes were glistening as if they were afire, her foreign voice whisperung words in a tongue he couldn't understand. It sounded like an ancient language, something very old and long forgotten. She lifted her voice now, pale flames licking at her fingers and dark smoke swirling around her slender body. "Behold! The Red Sword of Heroes, the sword of legend and prophecy... _Behold_ _Lightbringer!_ He who wields Lightbringer shall be the Chosen One. He shall be Azor Ahai and all the darkness of this world shall flee from him."

Stannis Baratheon held up the sword for all to see, Melisandre's flames dancing around Lightbringer's crimson blade, heating the air in the whole meeting room.

_Lightbringer. The sword of prophecy. He must be Melisandre's other candidate. He is Azor Ahai. Not me. _Harry thought, eyes drawn to the sword and feeling a wave of relief washing over him. It felt like someone had removed a heavy weight from his shoulders.

Tyrion murmured beside him."Well, it seems the lobster lord is our heroic Azor Ahai. Who would have thought that?"

The other lords and ladies seemed unimpressed. Oberyn Martell raised an eyebrow. "A flashy display, my lord. But why is he allowed to carry a sword here? I would have preferred to bring my spear too."

"I don't think anyone here wants to get too close to your spear, my prince. They say its tip might be _poisoned_." The dwarf said, tapping his fingers lazily on the table.

The Dornish prince smiled. "I see, you're afraid, my lord of Lannister. And we don't want you to have a heart-attack now, do we?"

Tyrion smirked, his mismatched eyes hinting at the old Tyrell lady. "That's not it. I only fear Lady Olenna might complain again how much she dislikes wooden sticks if you shall choose to wave your spear around her nose."

The old lady snorted. "Men and their weapons. It's always the same." She looked at Stannis now. "A pretty sword, my lord. I grant you that. Still, a sword doesn't make one a king, or a Chosen One for that matter."

The Baratheon ground his teeth, his face taut. "You won't bend your knees and swear allegiance to me? Is that your final word?"

Olenna Tyrell and Oberyn Martell gave Harry a questioning look, as if they wanted him to be the first one to answer him. Harry swallowed, knowing full well that he had to make a choice. A choice which had to reflect the Order's wishes and also their independence.

"No, we won't bend our knees." Harry replied with a firm voice, watching Stannis clenching his teeth again, his dark blue eyes glinting disdainfully.

"A king shall only have subjects and enemies. You chose to be my enemy. So be it, boy. I shall see you again on the battlefield, Potter. Don't try to hide from me, your day will come."

Tyrion grinned. "Ah, I have to congratulate you, Harry. This idea to hold a conference to gain new allies was simply wonderful. But it seems to me you have rather odd ways to gain new friends, or should I say _enemies_? Truly fascinating, my friend. You surprise me time and time again."


	9. Into the lion's lair

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

_Author's Note: thanks again for reviewing, Sonia605, it's much appreciated :) The Starks will appear in the upcoming chapters. Winter is definitely coming. I think the Tyrells are interested to get their hands on Hogwarts teachers because they are skilled wizards. Yes, the King's Guard is disbanded but we will see King's Landing in a later chapter. And you're right, Selmy is with Dany right now. The following chapters will hopefully answer some questions, I don't want to reveal too much. Once again, thank you for reading & reviewing :)_

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><p>The Serpent and the Lion<p>

~Chapter 8: Into the lion's lair~

Silence fell in the great meeting room. Harry was certain all eyes were staring at him. Had he done the right thing? Or had his decision been too rash?

Lord Stannis Baratheon had Melisandre's support. She believed in him and claimed he was the Chosen One, Azor Ahai reborn.

And yet, Harry saw the doubt in the faces of the Tyrell and Martell family members. He had his own doubts as well. In the end there had been no other way. The Lord of Dragonstone had cornered him, he had forced him to give his answer. And with his refusal to follow him and to hand over the leadership of the Order of the Phoenix Harry had gained a new foe. It was probably very amusing in Tyrion's eyes but to Harry it wasn't funny at all. On the contrary, he now had this bad feeling to be trapped inside a small box. All walls were moving closer, narrowing the space and slowly tightening around him. There was no escape. No way out and no turning back now.

Ocean blue eyes pierced into his and he found himself powerless to look away.

"You cannot hide your insecurity, boy. You are too young, you lack experience and you are still too green to defeat me. But a king shall not be without mercy. I will grant you time to think this over. The rest is up to you." Stannis offered through gritted teeth, obviously not liking the idea of providing him time for consideration.

"_Mercy_... Mercy is an unknown concept to him, Harry." Tyrion whispered chilly, sitting in a chair next to him.

Harry gulped. "I don't need time to think this over, Lord Stannis. I've made up my mind."

The other Lord glowered at the young wizard. "As you wish, Potter. May R'hllor have mercy on your soul, for I shall show you _none_." He shot him one last angry glance and turned around, leaving the room, his steps creaking loudly on the old parquet floor.

The red sorceress didn't accompany him. Instead she chose to remain here, her scarlet eyes shining in a strange light. "His Grace was sure you would join his cause although I have told him you would decline his proposal."

"Yeah, your lord must be _very_ disappointed. I guess he can't wait to kill me." Harry said in a flat tone, feeling Melisandre's heat enveloping his body like a thick blanket. It felt similar to this burning fire which had surrounded him before. This magical heat which had engulfed him in his dream.

Melisandre's red lips curled into a smile. "Threatening to kill you should not let you fear him. His unspoken threats are the ones you should dread. Trust me, I think he has taken a liking to you."

The boy gave her a weak smile. "He's got an _odd way_ of showing this."

"His Grace is a very complex man, Harry. In time I hope you will learn to understand each other. You must realize there is no need for bloodshed. No one needs to die. After all we share a common goal and it is of great significance to work together in this upcoming war. To fight and stand _together_ against the darkness. Believe me, we have to act quickly until it is too late for all of us."

"I have no objections to fight You-Know-Who with Lord Stannis' aid. But it's impossible to negotiate an alliance, not on _these terms_." Harry made clear while Remus Lupin and his godfather Sirius Black nodded in agreement.

Unlike her lord Melisandre stayed perfectly composed. There was no visible emotion betraying her thoughts and feelings. "You will change your mind, Harry. I promise you, you _will_." She assured him knowingly, her voice calm and a small smile playing on her lips.

Had she been able to see glimpses of his future again? He felt his curiosity growing and had intended to ask her if she had seen new visions, yet her body started to dissipate like smoulder being blown away by wind. There was this feeling of a warm breeze brushing against his skin as he saw her physical form dissolving into nothingness. The red sorceress had left them, and with her this air of anxiety which had filled this room just moments earlier had vanished too.

The old lady Olenna Tyrell coughed and waggled a silken tissue although there was no smoke to be seen anymore. "A red priestess from Asshai. I tell you, they are troublesome folk. Chanting '_Red God here. Red God there. Foul darkness begone!_'". She sighed heavily, "This woman must have put this ridiculous idea into his head... _King Stannis_...", and she snorted, "Gods be good, if we really need a new king, it should be his younger brother Renly Baratheon. At least he _looks_ the part."

Oberyn Martell's black eyes turned to thin slits. "Renly spends all his time in Highgarden. He is much more a rose than a stag now, my lady. A comely pawn for you, should he choose to claim the throne, I would say."

"I do not know what you are implying, snake. No one, neither my son nor me have manipulated this young man or have forced him to stay at our castle. Lord Renly loves Highgarden with all his heart. Everyone knows that." The old Tyrell lady explained.

"Renly loves his costly clothing and worships his reflection in the mirror. Everyone knows _that_." Tyrion corrected her with a mocking smile and continued. "If you all really want a new king so badly, then by all means my sweet nephew Joffrey will be more than happy to ascend the iron throne. He _is_ Robert Baratheon's son, in case you might have forgotten that tiny little fact."

Harry could see the Dornishman's mouth twisting as he spoke to Tyrion. "Oh yes, dwarf. Was this not one of your father's plans all along? Imagine this constellation: Joffrey a king and Lord Tywin acting as Hand of the King. And what a strange coincidence that all members of the King's old council are now serving at the Lannister council. I must admit it is a well-thought-out master plan. After all this time of waiting and scheming the Lannister rule would finally be complete, do you not agree?"

The prince gave him a challenging look but Tyrion only frowned and shook his head. "My prince, please. You're describing my _worst nightmare_ there. Surely I won't find any sleep today." The small lord replied in a dry tone, shaking exaggeratedly as if this prospect truly scared him.

"Speaking of your dear family, there is something of great importance we should discuss", Oberyn Martell eyed him like a viper would stare at its victim, a menacing glint in his dark eyes, "Pray tell me, when will _justice_ be served?"

Harry was glad Lord Martell's eyes were not directed at him. For a moment this man's gaze reminded him of Voldemort's cold stare and it sent shivers down his spine. Tyrion gave no hint of being intimidated by the Dornish Prince. He glanced at Sirius Black, waving his small hand lazily. "When will it be served? A good question, my prince. Someone should ask the waitress."

"We don't have a waitress here. Only a house-elf. Kreacher is his name." Sirius said, an amused expression on his face.

The dwarf shrugged. "Ask Kreacher, then."

The Dornish Prince balled his fists, anger seeping into his voice. "_Imp_, do not dare to joke about this matter or I swear to you, I shall cut off that sharp tongue of yours!"

"My _tongue_? Why not my nose or my feet? Where is the creativity these days? At least someone once announced to cut off my manhood and feed it to the goats. See, even the hill tribes have more imagination than you, my lord." Tyrion winked at Bronn who grinned in return.

"_That_ can be arranged. Alas, I fear, judging by your _small size_ the goats will not have _much_ to eat." The Red Viper mused cooly.

Harry had this gut feeling the Martell lord was seeking a confrontation with his friend. He knew the reasons but he had promised Tyrion not to tell anyone. It was a gruesome rumour and according to Tyrion there was some truth in it. One of Tywin's knights had raped and killed Oberyn's sister, Princess Elia Martell during the rebellion against the dragons. It was also no secret that this knight had been Ser Gregor Clegane. Lord Tywin's beast, also known as the Mountain that rides. Tyrion believed his father had only wanted Elia's children dead, their mother Elia was not to be harmed. But Ser Gregor had thwarted Tywin's plans and Tyrion blamed his father for his servant's actions.

Harry remembered every word of their conversation clearly because he had been curious to learn more about Tywin Lannister. Tyrion's expression had been sour that one evening as he had explained it was Tywin who held the responsibility for Elia's death._ The mountain is father's creature. Tywin is the one who holds his leash. He should have foreseen this. It's all his fault._

Harry wondered if Oberyn and Tyrion would continue like that. The Red Viper demanded justice and Tyrion tried his best to avoid this delicate subject. The prince wanted the truth about Elia's murder and it was more than obvious he would soon lose his calm if he didn't get what he wanted.

Tyrion was walking on thin ice here. _I hope he knows what he's doing._ I_t would not help us at all if we antagonize each lord and lady here._ Harry thought.

To Harry's surprise he noticed Tyrion's expression turning serious again. As if he had finally decided the time for japes was over. "Let me make this clear to you. You are talking to the wrong Lannister lord, my prince. If you seek justice you should ask my dear father. He knows the answers to all your questions"

"Your father is not here. I am asking _you, dwarf! _I want justice for my sister Elia and her children and I shall have it. First let us start with that riding enormity and finish with the one who gave the orders."

"As I've said before, you are talking to the wrong Lannister. Perhaps you ought to pay a visit to Casterly Rock, I am sure my father will rejoice to help you with your inquiry regarding Princess Elia's murder." Tyrion offered him.

"Do you take me for a fool walking straight into the lion's lair?" Oberyn sneered and turned to Harry now, giving him a claiming look. "Give us justice, boy. Do that and Dorne shall join you and our forces shall gladly fight at your side."

"_Sneak into Casterly Rock and kill the Mountain_? Oh yes, why not? This will be a _cinch_." Tyrion commented sarcastically, giving his uncle a side glance. Kevan Lannister didn't move away from his spot but he had listened to their conversation attentively, his green eyes watching them from the distance.

_Well, it's worth a try._ Harry thought and cleared his throat. "I will consider your offer, Lord Oberyn."

He could see Tyrion shifting in his seat, glancing at him gloomily. His two friends, Ron and Hermione weren't liking this idea either, both not hiding their concerns regarding this matter.

The only one who seemed satisfied was Oberyn Martell. He smiled and patted Harry's shoulder. "I knew I could count on you. I am sure you shall not disappoint me. Bring me Ser Gregor alive or dead and you shall have your alliance."

Olenna Tyrell snorted. "Hmm, or maybe Ser Gregor will bring you the Potter child alive or dead, no? Though we speak of the Mountain that rides... I would wager _dead_."

Harry gulped, his throat was dry. "Is he _that nasty_?"

Tyrion frowned. "_Nasty_? Ser Gregor is almost eight feet tall and his body is all muscle. He loves to cut men in half with his large greatsword. Trust me, he even decapitates his horses when he is in his murderous frenzy again."

His stomach tightened._ This Gregor guy seems to have giant's blood in his veins. It would be the same as fighting a tall man like Hagrid. I don't think this was a good idea... _

Oberyn Martell wasn't impressed. "The tall ones are always the easiest ones to fall. Once you take them down, they are dead." He reminded him, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. Harry could only nod in return, the uneasiness not entirely leaving him.

He looked for his friends for reassurance and support, yet they didn't respond. Hermione furrowed her brows the way she always did when she doubted his decisions and Ron was biting his lips, his whole body stiff as if he had to face a Troll.

_I must show confidence now. I'm the Chosen One, not a scaredy cat. If I want allies I have to do this! _Harry told himself and adjusted his glasses, his green eyes shining with new determination now.

The dark-haired boy managed a half-smile. "They say a tall man makes a greater target, right?"

"Indeed, your spells cannot miss Ser Gregor. However you have to be quick about it, my friend. If you move too slow the Mountain might manage to chop your head off first." Tyrion pointed out.

Olenna yawned. "All this talk of breaking down a mountain is tiring me greatly. If you will excuse me." Margaery helped her grandmother standing up from her seat. Harry was sure the old woman would call her bodyguards Left and Right to escort her out but much to the young man's chagrin she waved a hand at him, summoning him to assist her.

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

Harry grimaced. The sheer thought of being alone with this old witch was not something he looked forward to. If he could spend his time with Lady Margaery instead, well that would be much better. It would be like a dream come true. Yet, here he was. Walking through the long hallway of the Black family's residence with this old hag, holding her arm and guiding her to the empty drawing room.

For a moment they both just stood there, studying the faded, old tapestry which showed the family tree of House Black. The Tyrell lady nodded silently as she read the names of Sirius' family. Harry had the impression she knew some of the names written in golden, elegant handwriting. Like she had heard of them before.

Olenna Tyrell let out a soft sigh and turned to him. "Now, child. It is good we have some time alone to bargain the terms and conditions of our alliance. Thanks to your excellent diplomatic skills we find ourselves in the pudding reaching up to our knees. What kind of madness possessed you to reject Lord Stannis' offer?"

She looked at him sharply and Harry felt like a small child again who was scolded by his aunt Petunia. "I have to represent the Order's wish-wishes, my lady. I had n-no other choice." He stammered.

"_Wrong_, child! You had another, a better option. An important rule in diplomacy is this: When someone wants something from you so badly you _stall_ him. You say you need time to think it over or you have to consult other members of your Order first. By doing so you do not enrage your counterpart and you gain time to arrange a plan. Regrettably, the cow's been milked and we cannot squirt the milk back up her udder. So here we are now, standing in the pudding because of you."

"I-I haven't thought..." Harry began but stopped, as Olenna cut him off. "Of course you didn't _think, _boy. Men rarely _think_ at all."

The Queen of Thorns sighed again. "Oh well, complaining about this mess will not get us anywhere, right child? So pray tell me, what can you offer House Tyrell? What can you give us that would convince us to support you in your war against Voldemort? You must realize I do not intend to have the pudding up to our heads without compensation. My dear son Mace, gods help me, is an oaf. He might have wanted to assist you without second thoughts, thinking only of covering our House in glory. But you see, I've told him we need a safeguard or a prize, something to make our efforts worthwhile. Surely you understand this, do you not?"

The old woman moved closer, her wrinkled hand rested on his upper arm and Harry felt his whole body stiffening under her touch.

"What kind of prize do you suggest?" He asked her hesitantly, already feeling his insides tightening and somehow suspecting he wouldn't like her answer.

"Marriage. You shall come to Highgarden and wed my granddaughter, Lady Margaery Tyrell." Olenna Tyrell replied.

Harry blushed and whispered. "_To wed Lady Margaery_?"

"Don't just repeat everything I say like a parrot, child.", Olenna snorted. "My granddaughter is a beautiful, highborn maiden of one of the seven Great Houses and if I am not mistaken you are both of the same age. My Margaery would be the perfect match for you, Harry James Potter."

Harry didn't know what to say. He had never thought of marriage before. To him it had always been a girl's thing. Girls would giggle about it and fantasize what their wedding dress would be like or discuss the looks of their perfect dream prince but he was a boy. These things had never interested him. And Merlin, in his opinion he was too young to even think about marriage. Although the notion was a tempting one. Margaery was an beautiful angel, a goddess who had descended from the heavens.

"Er, I don't know what to say, my lady." Harry said, his voice catching in his throat. He was surprised that he had managed to say anything at all.

Olenna frowned. "Do not tell me you need your Lannister dwarf to do all the talking for you."

He shook his head. "Er, no, no. That's not it."

"What is it then? Do you not like my granddaughter? Or is there _someone else_ you want to marry?" She asked him, her voice sounding slightly annoyed.

His face reddened. "N-no, it's just that I...", he paused for a moment, searching for the right words, "It's just that I think I'm not, well I'm still a teenager and this thought to wed someone has never crossed my mind before. But Margaery is... she is beautiful and likeable and, how can I say it? I just don't know her yet."

"You will have all the time in the world to get to know each other. _After_ your wedding." Olenna snapped impatiently.

Harry felt dizzy. What should he do now? Would he offend this old lady if he would ask her to give him more time?

"Please, my lady. Can't you see? The poor lad is confused. Give him some time to consider." A deep voice said and they both turned their heads to discover Tyrion Lannister standing at the door.

Olenna Tyrell snorted. "Very well. We shall talk again when you have reached a decision, child."

The old lady left the drawing room, showing no difficulties walking without his help. Apparently she wasn't the frail old lady she pretended to be.

"Marriage, huh? So the Tyrells finally reveal their true intentions. Truth be told I have expected this. Through marriage the old rose unifies your families and your popular name will gain them new allies. I am certain the whole Wizarding World will love you. You two would make a wonderful pair, do you not agree?" Tyrion asked him, a grin on his face and his mismatched eyes looking up to him.

"I don't know. What do you think? Should I marry her?"

The Lannister lord rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, my sweet sister would tell you to marry Margaery and get it over with."

"And what would you tell me?" Harry asked.

Tyrion smirked. "I would tell you exactly the same thing. Look at it this way, Harry. Lady Margaery is a lovely maid from a wealthy and respectable family. If you choose to wed her you will have all the strength of Highgarden behind you. And a wedding ceremony is easier to accomplish than slaying Ser Gregor Clegane in Casterly Rock. You will find you'll have much more difficulties achieving _that_."

"What about _love_? You should love the person you want to marry. Have you never been in love, Tyrion?" He wanted to know, thinking of his parents who had married each other because of love, not out of necessity.

The little lord started to sing. "_I loved a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair._"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What's that song?"

"My wife used to sing this song for me." Tyrion murmured sadly.

"Your wife? You were married?"

It was the first time Harry saw Tyrion somewhat depressed. He had always known him as a cheerful and funny person. Nothing could ever upset him. Yet Harry had touched on a subject which let him feel down.

Tyrion narrowed his eyes, his voice sounding bitter. "Please forgive me, my friend. I am not in the mood to talk about this right now. You should ask me again when I'm not _sober._"

"Ok." Harry said, desperately thinking of something to lighten up the mood. "So... the marriage thing... I think Ron will surely kill me if I marry Margaery Tyrell."

"Oh yes, young Weasley will be furious. And Lady Hermione won't like it either, I might say."

"Please, don't mention Hermione." Harry grinned and they both laughed at that, forgetting their doubts and worries for a short while.

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

The sun was sinking low, flooding the skies in a bloody red light. The sea was as black as ink and you could feel the cold chill of dusk as the sun's last golden rays highlighted the Lannister stronghold.

Casterly Rock towered over them, the yellowish sand rock shone like a colossal gold nugget, the colours slowly changing to a darker, orange hue as the shafts of sunlight started to fade away, deep long shadows creeping over the castle walls.

The Dark Lord had always been fascinated with history and ancient monuments. He had read about this castle which was shrouded in myths. According to his researches Casterly Rock was originally held by the Casterlys, the old Kings of the Rock. They were fooled into giving the Rock to Lann the Clever, a trickster hero and founder of House Lannister, hundreds of years ago.

They climbed the stony steps to reach the entrance gates. A pair of giant golden lion sphinxes flanked the stairs. The two lions lay there on their black, marbled pedestals like two unmoving guardians, their unseeing onyx eyes watching the distance.

The Dark Lord felt the tension in the air. His Death Eaters seemed nervous and cautious as they trailed behind him. They were all in an unknown place. Only few outsiders ever had this rare opportunity to visit a seat of a Great House.

His lioness was leading the way, dressed in a low-cut gown of forest green which brought out the colour of her emerald eyes perfectly. Her long, golden hair tumbled across her bare shoulders and around her neck she wore a shining silver necklace he had given her. The jewellery had the shape of a coiling snake, with emerald stone eyes as green as hers.

Cersei looked beautiful this evening and he couldn't deny he felt a sense of pride that she belonged to _him_, that she was _his_.

A dozen guardsmen in crimson cloaks stood guard at the gates which were also known as the _Lion's Mouth_. They were greeted by the captain of the Lannister guard who introduced himself as Captain Vylarr. "Lady Cersei, welcome. There was no word of your arrival. I must confess we have not expected you."

Voldemort's scarlet eyes watched her intently beneath his hood. If she planned to turn against her master, the perfect moment to strike was now. His Death Eaters were clearly outnumbered and should they choose to attack, both sides would surely lose many skilled wizards in a possible battle. He hoped Cersei wouldn't be so foolish to attempt that, however it was difficult to predict her next moves. This woman was in her territory now, the lioness had returned to her lair. She exuded an air of pride and confidence. It reminded him of the day he had first met her. This day where he had showed Cersei her limitations, making it clear it had been him who held the upper hand, shattering her Lannister pride to pieces.

"Forgive us for not providing information of our arrival, Captain Vylarr. His lordship is eager to meet my father," she gestured to Voldemort now and the captain of the guards eyed the robed figure with a guarded expression as Cersei went on, "and we had to make haste to reach you at dusk. I hope it is not too late to have an audience with Lord Tywin."

"I am afraid it is not possible at the moment, m'lady. Lord Tywin left us orders, he wishes not to be disturbed, the council is in session." Vylarr said.

"You do realize you speak to Lord Tywin's daughter and Lord Voldemort, Captain. I demand you to escort us to the council chamber, _now_!" The Lannister woman emphasized in a commanding tone, allowing him no word of protest. The dark wizard enjoyed it immensely how his lioness flashed her fiery green eyes at the guardsman, showing him his place.

The captain flinched and inclined his head. "Certainly, as my lady commands. If you would please follow me."

She wanted to enter the castle but the Dark Lord stopped her, snatching her forearm and pulling her close to his chest. Her Dark Mark was burning at his touch. He felt the snake tattoo moving on her skin, reacting to the physical connection. His other hand took her chin and lifted her head until their eyes met, bright scarlet staring into green fire.

"_Cersssei_." Voldemort hissed slowly, deliberately, savouring her name on his tongue like sweet summer wine. The woman couldn't hold back a shiver as his long fingernails traced her jawline. He chuckled, pleased how she reacted to the contact. "Tell me, my dear. Are you eager to meet your family again? Do not forget where your true loyalties lie now."

"My true loyalties lie with _you_, my lord. _Only you_." She assured him in a matter-of-factly tone, her facial expression giving nothing away.

His red eyes shone like two orbs as he gazed at her thoughtfully. There was something in her eyes, a brief moment where he had spotted this glint in her eyes. What was it? Was she scheming anything? Regardless what it was he would be careful from now on. This lioness could still bite. Yet, this also somehow amused him. Voldemort had started to relish these little games they play, he never grew tired of them. After all, life was boring if there was no good challenge. And Cersei was a constant challenge, she never seemed to learn. The Lannister lioness feigned her submission, biding her time and patiently waiting for a chance to turn the tide.

_Pathetic woman._ He thought, his thin, almost non-existent lips curling into an amused smile. "Come now, my dear. We shall not keep Lord Tywin waiting."

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

After climbing a serpentine stairway they followed Captain Vylarr through a pillared hall of red stone heavily decorated with crimson banners of House Lannister, displaying a golden lion roaring its defiance.

Cersei knew the way, they were headed for the Hall of Heroes. She began to wonder why the council didn't meet in Tywin's solar. Had something happened? This little detail had piqued her curiosity but she didn't want to ask Vylarr about it. Voldemort and his other servants were too close, they might overhear their conversation. The young woman would wait, she would get her answers sooner or later.

It was more important to focus on the upcoming meeting now. Cersei couldn't say how her father would react. Especially when he saw Jaime in shackles, being treated like a common prisoner. And what would happen when he faced Voldemort? The Dark Lord was unpredictable. You could never be sure what he would do next. But maybe she worried too much. Lord Tywin was a capable strategist, he knew how to handle difficult situations, or in Voldemort's case, complicated men.

Ser Gregor Clegane stood at the oaken doors, a grimly sentry wearing a heavy plate armour. The visor of his helm was down, only his black eyes were visible. The giant knight stepped forward, blocking their path.

"The council is not to be disturbed." His deep voice growled.

Cersei noticed a movement next to her, she glimpsed Voldemort who already held his yew wand in his hands. It was clear the dark wizard didn't have the patience to deal with Ser Gregor now.

She put her hand on his arm, lowering it and beckoning him to wait.

"I am here to see my father, Ser. Would you be so kind to open the doors for us?" She asked him with a soft voice.

Gregor was not moving away. Without an answer he turned his eyes at her entourage. She already thought he would let them wait here in the corridor till the council session was over but he suddenly nodded, motioning to them to come. "You and three of them may enter, my lady. The others shall stay here."

_Better than nothing_, she thought as she watched Voldemort giving orders to Lucius Malfoy and his wife Narcissa to accompany them.

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

They entered the Hall of Heroes, the heavy doors swinging shut behind them. Four council members sat at the marble table, her father Tywin Lannister was seated at its far end, beneath the large glass window. Her uncle Kevan Lannister was talking to him but he broke off as he noted their appearance. Cersei had managed to hear pieces of their conversation. There were two words that stood out clearly. 'Stannis' and 'king'. For a brief moment she wondered what had happened during her absence. Had Lord Stannis declared himself king? He couldn't do that. By all the laws of the seven Great Houses only her son Joffrey had the rights to sit on the iron throne. Joffrey was Robert Baratheon's heir, not Stannis.

She had to talk to father. Tywin had to fill her in what was going on here. However, for now it had to wait.

The Lord of Casterly Rock was clad in elegant crimson robes, a lion embroidered on his shoulders. He raised his green eyes flecked with gold, his fingers steepled under his chin. He was a tall man with a stern face and a hard mouth. Lord Tywin was in his late fifties, his short blond hair had turned almost white.

The atmosphere in the hall was as tense as a bowstring. Her father hadn't expected them and Cersei knew how much he hated surprises.

Kevan Lannister stared at Voldemort's wand warily, his own hand reaching to his sword hilt but Tywin placed his hand on his brother's arm quickly.

"Cersei, I see you have returned," Tywin said softly and turned to Voldemort, "please acquaint us with our guests of _honour_."

Cersei crossed the hall to the table, Lord Voldemort and the Malfoys followed close behind her. She gestured to them, "May I present the Heir of Slytherin, Lord Voldemort and his entourage, Lucius and Narcissa of House Malfoy", and she nodded at her father. "Allow me to introduce my lord father, Tywin son of Tytos of House Lannister, Lord and Castellan of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West and Shield of Lannisport. And my uncle, Kevan Lannister, Lord Tywin's younger brother."

The Dark Lord glared at Tywin Lannister, his crimson eyes not leaving his green ones as Cersei explained the reasons for their arrival, telling of Bellatrix Lestrange's death and the Dark Lord's decision to use the Rock as their current base of operations.

Cersei had never seen her father smile but she knew how to read his expression. The gold in his eyes was shining as if Tywin was somehow pleased by this turn of events.

_Father sees it too. The snake wants to play with us and rushes into the lion's jaws. Voldemort is doomed. _She thought, smiling to herself.

Lord Varys broke the uncomfortable silence as he stood up from his seat, walking over to them. The Spider wore a velvet garment, coloured in orange and dark yellow tones, richly adorned with an intricate embroidery of autumn leaves. He approached Voldemort and took his pale hand in his, leaving powder stains on the black sleeves of his robe.

"My lord, it is indeed a great honour to welcome you here at Casterly Rock. May I present our small council, here we have Lord Petyr Baelish, our Master of Coin," Varys waved his hand at Baelish who inclined his head in return. The small lord with the pointed chin beard seemed to enjoy all this, a sly smile on his lips.

And Varys now pointed at an old man, sitting at the council table and smiling gently. "Grand Maester Pycelle, our scholar and Potion Master, my lord."

Voldemort had followed his gaze and now looked at the man who still held his hand in his. He didn't like it to be touched and Cersei saw him sliding his hand from Varys' grasp.

"And who might you be?" The Dark Lord asked him in a cold tone.

"Me? I am Lord Varys, my lord. Master of Whisperers, at your service." He bowed deeply.

The dark wizard had probably remembered it had been Varys who had provided the Dreamless Sleep potions. Because the red colour in Lord Voldemort's eyes seemed to intensify, turning to a darker, burgundy hue. Cersei couldn't say if Varys was intimidated or not, yet even if he was he didn't seem to let it show.

The bald man turned to the Malfoy pair now, spreading his hands. "I was grievous sad to hear about Bellatrix Lestrange. A formidable witch and a great loss, truly." Varys said with a sorrowful voice, narrowing his eyes.

Narcissa nodded, "Thank you, Lord Varys."

The doors opened with a loud groan. Cersei's heart jumped at the sight of her beloved son. Joffrey had turned eleven a few days ago and was almost as tall as her. He looked like a prince, wearing a crimson leather doublet and a cloth-of-gold half cape casually draped across one shoulder, fastened with a golden lion brooch. Following close at his heels like a loyal dog was his personal guard, Sandor Clegane. The man with the half-burned face was Ser Gregor's younger brother, also known as Joffrey's Hound.

"Mother, they told me you are back." Joffrey said, running to her. Cersei was so glad to see her son again. She held Joffrey close to her and hugged him, never wanting to let him go again.

"My sweet darling." She whispered fondly, planting a soft kiss on his forehead and tousling his blond hair.

Joffrey blushed. "Mother, please. I'm not a child."

Cersei smiled and pinched his cheek. "You are my little darling boy and you will always be my child."

The young boy grimaced and slipped away from her embrace, turning his head and noticing Lord Voldemort for the first time.

"Mother, who is _this man_? Look at his face, his nose is _missing_." Joffrey smirked derisively, ignoring the fact that the other was a grown-up man.

Voldemort's cat-like eyes turned to thin slits as he gazed at the boy threateningly.

Cersei bent down and whispered in her son's ear. "Darling, you should speak with more respect. This is Lord Voldemort, the Heir of Salazar Slytherin."

"_The Heir of Slytherin_?" Joffrey repeated, his green eyes bright with mockery.

Joffrey walked towards the Dark Lord, obviously not realizing how dangerous this man could be.

_Joffrey, no! What in seven hells are you doing? Have you lost your mind? _Cersei thought, glancing at her father who just sat there at his table, observing his grandson's folly with great interest.

She knew her son. Once he started with this, he didn't stop. And even if she'd told him to stop she was sure he wouldn't listen anyway.

"So this is the _great Dark Lord_ everyone fears? He does not look all that frightening to _me_.", Joffrey sneered and went on, "and what is so _great_ about him anyway? Everyone knows the story of the mighty Lord Voldemort who couldn't even kill a baby. Is it not a _funny_ story?" Joffrey laughed out loud and looked for his dog, Sandor Clegane. He always used to share his jokes with his bodyguard, enjoying it to mock the ones he deemed to be beneath him.

What happened now was a scene of Cersei's worst nightmares. It all happened so fast, she could only stand there and watch it all in horror, unable to do anything.

Voldemort glided over the Myrish carpet, his black robes moving and swirling like oil in water.

At the same time the Hound moved in their direction, the loyal dog rushing to his master's aid. Lucius Malfoy sensed the danger as well and quickly put a hand in his robe, withdrawing his wand and pointing it at Sandor Clegane.

Voldemort was the first to reach her son. His spidery hand pulled the young boy roughly by the neck and his yew wand pressed against Joffrey's throat. The Dark Lord's soft voice lowered to a sharp, menacing whisper. "You are _wrong_, boy. I can _kill_ _you_... _NOW_!"


	10. Victory and Defeat

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 9: Victory and Defeat~

Panic welled in her. Cersei's entire body was tense, her eyes darted around the hall, searching for someone, anyone to help her son. Her father, Lord Tywin Lannister was watching them silently and the other members of his council seemed unsure what to do. As if they were fearing the possible consequences of their intervention, seemingly afraid of the Dark Lord's anger. Her uncle stood beside her father, frozen in place. Lord Baelish and Grand Maester Pycelle narrowed their eyes as if they were ignoring what was happening in front of them. At least Lord Varys seemed genuinely concerned, standing there next to her and shaking his bald head sadly. Cersei knew she couldn't count on Varys to step in. The Spider was known to be a coward, always intent to keep out of harm's way.

The young woman could hear her son whimper, his green eyes were wide with fear. "No! You can't do this, you can't!"

"Oh, but I _can_." Voldemort whispered softly, his voice as dark as the voice of death itself as he pressed his wand roughly against his neck.

At the same time the Hound was almost within striking distance, clutching his sword high above his head, already in a swinging motion. Cersei was sure Lucius Malfoy would hinder Sandor Clegane to move any further but she was surprised to see his hesitation. The blond haired wizard exchanged glances with her father and Tywin nodded.

_What is going on here? Has father convinced Lucius to change allegiance?_ Cersei wondered but had no time to think about this. Joffrey's life was at stake here and she wouldn't let him die. Not here. Not now and not at _his_ hands.

"_Voldemort_!" she screamed, desperately trying to divert his attention. Green sparks were dancing around his yew wand as the serpentine man flashed his ruby red eyes at her. He had been ready to unleash the Killing Curse and seemed more than displeased by her meddling.

Cersei took a deep breath and moved towards him slowly, feeling each nerve on the edge. It was important to prevent an escalation of this situation. She knew well this was no empty threat. If Voldemort wanted to kill someone he did it without second thoughts. And he was even more dangerous when he wasn't enraged and furious. His calm composure seemed far more intimidating than his fury.

_We shouldn't provoke him unnecessarily._ Cersei thought and gave the Hound a hand-sign to step back.

She saw him comply and sheathe his sword. Lucius understood what she tried to do and let his wand hand sink too. Now it was only her. Only she remained trying to save Joffrey's life.

Drops of sweat ran down her temples as she was getting closer and closer to him. What would she do? Or more precisely what _could_ she do? She didn't really know and she didn't have a plan either.

_There's no time for doubts. I have to be strong. For my family and for Joff._

Voldemort released Joffrey's collar and turned to face her, his wand rolling between his pale fingers.

"What is it, Cersei?" he hissed, his annoyance clearly audible in his high-pitched, pitiless voice.

Cersei quickly positioned herself in front of her son, ready to protect him with her body. She stared straight into his red eyes, her green eyes undeviating. Voldemort despised weakness and she wanted to appear strong and determined.

Her voice sounded soft and reasonable as she spoke. "Please do him no harm, my lord. It is the carelessness of youth. My son doesn't think before he speaks. Please forgive him. He is just a child."

But Voldemort wasn't a forgiving lord and it didn't surprise her he didn't change his mind. "Your son's impudence shall not go unpunished, my dear. _Move or you shall share his fate!_" He snarled in a commanding tone, flicking his wand at her.

"_No!_" Cersei breathed, feeling an invisible force pushing her backwards. She almost stumbled but somehow managed to stand upright, gathering all her willpower not to fall.

_I have to do something or he'll kill us both._ She was nervously searching for a way out of this predicament but her mind was blank. Shock and the feeling of helplessness numbed her body and she could only stare into these scarlet eyes. These blazing eyes which haunted her in her nightmares.

His tall, ivory figure loomed over her, his dark magic crackled around him like lightning. Was this the end? Without thinking she took a step towards him and placed a hand on his cheek. He hadn't expected this and was caught off-guard by her actions as she leaned forward and kissed his thin lips.

_Seven gods, what am I doing here?_ She hadn't planned this and also had her doubts it might work but yet she kissed him. This man who had forced her to torture her brother. This man who had marked her as his possession and the man who wanted to kill her only son. It was a panic reaction. Her fear to lose Joffrey had brought her to this point. This fear had driven her to go to such lengths.

However there was no response. It felt like kissing a stone gargoyle. There was no hint of emotion or warmth. Only coldness.

As she pulled back she tried to read his expression but his face was an impassive mask and she couldn't figure out what was going through his mind. Cersei began to regret her instinctive action. It was wrong and it didn't accomplish anything. How could she forget Voldemort was more snake than human? A woman's advances wouldn't affect him, not in the slightest.

Now she had probably made everything worse. Cersei sighed and awaited her punishment, anticipating the excruciating pain of the Cruciatus Curse. Yet nothing happened. She lifted her face, studying his snake-like face and looking into his eyes, two pools of crimson red. At first she had thought she saw nothing. His face was still a mask, yet there was something in his eyes. A slight flicker of emotion as if something had changed. The young woman couldn't say what it was and stiffened slightly, watching him move his hand to her face, his long fingers gently brushing along her warm cheeks.

The Dark Lord frowned as if something wasn't right, seemingly surprised by his own reaction.

"Cersei." he whispered slowly, his cold hand now resting on her shoulder.

This was her chance. She had his attention and maybe now she would be able to convince him to spare her Joff.

"Please, my lord. It is not necessary to punish my son. Allow me to deal with him myself." She begged him insistently, hoping he would listen to her plea.

Voldemort turned his head and eyed Joffrey. The young boy had tried to hide behind his mother but couldn't escape those red eyes, shivering under his intense gaze.

He paused for a moment, contemplating his decision and nodded finally. "I give you permission to discipline your son."

She almost felt relief hearing his words but she soon became wary again as his lips curled into a sinister smile. "However, I shall decide on an appropriate punishment. He must learn it is a great mistake to question Lord Voldemort's power."

_A punishment? Does he intend to torture my son? _Cersei didn't like this, not at all. However, there was nothing she could do.

The Lannister lady gave him a deep, respectful bow. "Of course, I shall see to it that my son realizes his inexcusable misbehaviour. Thank you, my lord."

She knew they had barely escaped death and from now on she would be careful to keep Joffrey away from Voldemort. And she would have a word with Sandor Clegane. The Hound was responsible for his protection. It was time to remind him of his duties. Yet, she also hoped her son had learned his lesson. Voldemort wasn't just an ordinary wizard you could mess with. The snake was far too dangerous.

She glanced at her father who still sat at his seat. Lord Tywin was quiet, his green-gold eyes regarded them thoughtfully. Hopefully that little display had opened Tywin's eyes. It had been her first failure to underestimate Lord Voldemort and her father should realize the lion couldn't play his games with the serpent. It wasn't wise to repeat the same mistakes all over again.

The Dark Lord placed his hand at her elbow, pulling her closer to him. "Come, my dear. I would like to inspect my new headquarters."

The woman nodded, smiling faintly. "Certainly."

Suddenly everyone turned their heads to the entrance as the heavy doors were pushed open with a loud bang. It was Ser Gregor Clegane who had entered the Hall of Heroes. His tall body armoured by heavy steel plate was shaking angrily as if something or someone had enraged him. The Mountain looked at Lord Tywin Lannister and roared in his deep, booming voice. "Lord Tywin, intruders have infiltrated Castery Rock! I've ordered Captain Vylarr to lead a search party to capture them."

"Who are these intruders?" Tywin asked him, his voice very calm although he was probably furious inside.

"We believe it is Harry Potter and he is not alone. The boy is accompanied by members of the Order of the Phoenix." Ser Gregor Clegane replied.

"_Harry Potter is here_?" Voldemort asked, more to himself, the words' meaning slowly sinking in that the boy was finally within his grasp.

He turned to Lucius. "Do you see, Lucius? I've told you before, one day the boy will come to me of his own free will and here he is." Lucius Malfoy only nodded in response, his face very pale.

A cruel smile twisted the Dark Lord's face as he gave his command. "All Death Eaters shall assist Captain Vylarr's search party. And I shall pursue him myself. This time Potter shall not escape. He is _mine_."

Voldemort turned to Cersei, hungry flames afire in his predatory eyes. "I have been waiting a long time for _this moment_. Come Cersei. You shall assist me during our hunt. It is time to prove your worth to me."

"As you wish, my lord."

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

Harry and Ron sprinted through a dimly lit hallway. The walls were massive stone. There were no windows, no doors, nothing. Only torches lighted the way.

"Do you know the way?" Ron asked him breathlessly, already exhausted from running away from all the Death Eaters and Lannister guards chasing after them. Their clothes were dirty and sliced. Harry's left jacket sleeve was smeared with blood after their encounter with Walden Macnair and Rabastan Lestrange. These two Death Eaters had given them a hard time and it had been Harry who had stunned them in the end. His bleeding wounds were a clear sign just how fierce this last battle had been.

"I don't know! We can only go forward, there's no other way." Harry replied, breathing heavily. All his muscles were hurting, tired from exhaustion.

"Mate, I don't think it was a good idea to split up. Tyrion knows this castle. He would know how to get out of here." His friend muttered.

In that moment Harry felt this familiar stab at his forehead. The scar was throbbing in unimaginable pain, he thought his head might burst from the sheer agony. His fingers rubbed his scar unconsciously as if it could somehow help him relieve the pain. "Voldemort is here, Ron. And he's after _me_, not you. Hermione and the others would be in danger if they hadn't left us. Even if Voldemort finds us I hope we can distract him somehow. So at least the others can escape from here." He told him firmly.

"Well, I guess it's up to us then, huh." Ron grimaced, obviously not liking the idea of playing the role of the hero who has to save the day.

Harry felt his skin prickling, the searing pain was increasing, it was almost unbearable. And it could only mean one thing: Voldemort was drawing near, his presence was getting closer and closer.

There was a voice inside his head now. A silky voice, whispering to him, slithering across his mind into the depths of his soul. _"I know you are here, Harry Potter. I can feel you."_

He tried to shut it out but the cold voice only laughed at his useless attempts and went on. _"You cannot escape. I will find you and no one will save you now. Resistance is futile, Harry. You know it is your fate, your destiny. Come to me."_

Just hearing _his_ _voice_ was enough to petrify him, fear surging through his veins. The young wizard winced and grabbed Ron's arm. "Wait!", he said sharply, holding his breath and clutching his wand tight in his sweaty hands.

"What?" Ron asked fearfully, his own wand already shaking in his hand.

"You-Know-Who is close. I can _feel _him." Harry whispered while his green eyes looked back and forth, searching for any movement in the darkness.

"Merlin, I hate this. I feel like I'm on show. We should move on before he finds us. " Ron breathed.

"And run straight into Voldemort's arms? No thanks." Harry grumbled through gritted teeth and raised his wand immediately as he heard a faint sound. He couldn't quite say what it was but whatever it was, it meant trouble.

Harry had this strange feeling that the air around them was getting colder. He was freezing, every breath he took a cloud of white steam in the air.

He strained his ears and was sure he could now hear a distant flapping sound as if something was flying towards their direction.

"Did you hear_ that_? I don't like that sound." Ron murmured nervously.

"He's coming. Keep your wand ready!" Harry whispered hoarsely, feeling his heart pounding wildly in his chest, all nerves on edge. Silently he moved into the shadows, carefully avoiding the torchlight. Ron mimicked his movements, his back pressed against the cold stone wall as he raised his wand, ready to strike.

His eyes stared into the darkness. He couldn't see anything, only the shadows moving in the flickering light. Right now he wished he had told Sirius about this plan to capture Gregor Clegane. It was reckless and foolish. His godfather would have never allowed this.

But still... Maybe it was better this way. Sirius might have tried to get to Clegane himself and after Melisandre's prophecy he wanted him to stay away from any battle. If he could he would lock him up at Grimmauld's Place, just to keep him save.

His thoughts were soon interrupted as a large, menacing shadow swept through the hallway. A ball of swirling black robes, hovering in the air.

The ball began to unfold and Harry pointed his wand at the shadow intuitively, yelling "Expelliarmus!" and Ron crying "Stupefy!"

Jets of brilliant red light hit a shining silver shield which deflected their spells. Harry and Ron ducked down instantly, their eyes now staring at a tall man, clad in black robes with an ivory snake-like face and red slit-pupilled eyes staring back at them.

Voldemort had been the shadow who had materialized in front of them. Next to him stood a beautiful young woman with long blond hair, wearing an elegant green gown. Her clear emerald eyes had the same colour as Tyrion's green eye.

_She must be Tyrion's sister, Cersei Lannister._ Harry thought.

"Not the way to treat your beloved Lord, Harry. I have expected an appropriate greeting. After all, it has been such a long time since we last saw each other at the graveyard." The Dark Lord said in a rebukingly tone, making Harry flinch and scramble backward.

Harry noticed Ron was equally afraid. There was an horrified expression on his face.

Lord Voldemort moved towards them purposefully, like a hunter encircling his prey. "Now Harry," the Dark Lord began with a soft, calm voice, "there are two ways to end this. You can either accept defeat and surrender," and his red eyes shone now as his thin lips curled into an evil smile, "or you can try to fight the inevitable. No matter, _I shall win_ one way or another."

"You will _never_ win!" Harry shouted defiantly, never wanting to give up and admit defeat. He would fight to the very end, even if it killed him.

Voldemort chuckled. "Oh yes, _good_. That's the spirit. Try to resist then, Harry. I shall _enjoy_ this."

Harry and Ron moved simultaneously, taking aim and screaming "Stupefy!"

"Protego!" Cersei shouted, deflecting their spells effortlessly.

Harry flung himself sideways, ready to cast another spell but Cersei was faster as she yelled "Impedimenta!". He felt his body being thrown backwards, his back slamming into the ground beneath him, the waves of pain paralysing his entire body. Ron tried to help him getting to his feet but he fell to the floor too as Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse hit him.

His friend was screaming and screaming, louder and louder, unable to endure this blazing agony.

"_Stop it_!" Harry croaked, standing up and holding his wand high, yelling. "Expelliarmus!"

Voldemort lifted the curse and deflected the red bolt of light with a casual flick of his yew wand.

"As amusing as it was, I shall now put an end to this. _Crucio_!"

Harry choked, closing his eyes tightly, feeling nothing but utter pain. He had gathered all his strength to get up again but his body betrayed him as he collapsed to the floor lifelessly. Every inch, every fibre and every muscle was on fire, his loud cries filling the dark hallway. He knew he would soon faint, seeing the darkness slowly clouding his vision.

"Not so fast. I shall not release you yet." The young wizard heard Voldemort say, the pain only slowly subsiding as he lifted the curse. He turned his head to look for Ron and found him unconscious.

_This is it._ Harry thought, feeling all of his hope drain like his strength leaving his body.

_The end._

Voldemort was standing directly above him, a look of triumph on his serpentine features.

Harry trembled uncontrollably and gasped as a gaunt finger pressed against the lightning scar on his forehead. His scar was exploding at the cold touch. It was pain beyond pain and he only wanted it to end quickly, knowing he couldn't stand this torture any longer.

"I will _kill you_, Harry Potter." The Dark Lord whispered, a dark finality in his voice which send cold chills down his spine.

Those red eyes were never leaving his. "Yes, _look at me_. All of your friends shall witness this moment when I kill you. I shall crush their precious hero in front of their eyes. No one will ever question me again. Never again will they doubt my power when I _destroy_ you."

Voldemort smiled cruelly as he saw the fear and terror in his eyes. "Oh yes, Harry. This is the look I want to see on their faces."

"I promise you, your great day shall soon come." He whispered, waving his yew wand in front of his face. The young boy's eyes fluttered shut. Darkness finally engulfed him, cold shadows embracing him as he descended into unconsciousness.

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

After hours of running and hiding they had finally fled to these empty chambers. They were very small, windowless and sparse. The furnishings were spartan. A small table, a few chairs, a wardrobe and a bed made of stone. It was not very comfortable here and Tyrion thanked the gods that there was at least a hearth providing light and warmth.

_Home sweet home. _Tyrion thought sourly.

Hermione was inspecting the rooms and raised her brown eyebrows in that familiar way, an expression he soon got accustomed to and which amused him greatly. "Are these your chambers?"

"I'm afraid no, my lady. But I wish these were mine, I really like the decor here." Tyrion smirked.

She rolled her eyes and asked him impatiently. "What are we doing here anyway?"

"We're waiting." The little Lannister Lord answered in a nonchalant tone.

"Waiting for _what_?" The Granger girl asked again and began to pace around the room. Her restlessness was understandable. She was worried about her friends. Unfortunately Tyrion couldn't lift her fears. He didn't know if Harry and Ron were safe or not. All he could do was to keep cool and hope she would calm down too.

"Patience, Hermione. We're waiting for a dear friend of mine." Tyrion replied.

"Well, I hope we don't have to wait too long. I'm hungry and you should know I can't fight with an empty stomach." Bronn grumbled.

The sellsword sat in the middle of the room, with his legs on the table, honing the edge of his sword. Those scraping sounds of steel on stone were unnerving and Tyrion was sure they would soon drive him crazy.

"Bronn, would you please sharpen your blade later? I'm getting headaches here." Tyrion said, rubbing his temples with his small fingers.

The older man laughed. "What's up, dwarf? Don't tell me you're nervous."

"I'm not but I soon will be if this continues. Can't you see? I need silence to _think_ here."

"Oh yes, of course. You need to think how to get us out of here, I presume?" Bronn asked, smiling thinly.

He nodded. "Among other things, yes." And his gaze wandered to Hermione for a brief moment. Tyrion had to admit he liked this girl a lot. He enjoyed their discussions late at night, reviewing all her books related to magic. Her thirst for knowledge was as great as his. And unlike all the other women who didn't even bother giving him a second glance or treated him with feigned courtesy, she didn't act differently around him. On the contrary, the Granger girl was honest and friendly in his presence. He had the feeling she was able to understand him and was sympathetic to him. As a dwarf and a squib his life had never been an easy one. Hermione was a Muggle-born witch, she also had to fight against prejudices and hostility. They had a lot in common and Tyrion hoped he would get the chance to spend more time together. Although there was still this voice of doubt inside his head.

_Don't delude yourself, dwarf. She doesn't care about you. Who would like a little, pitiful creature such as yourself?_

But Tyrion didn't want to listen to that inner voice. _She's my friend_, he thought. _That's all I need to know._

Hermione folded her arms and gave him a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. "You _do_ have a plan, do you, my lord?"

Tyrion smirked crookedly. "You do realize we didn't have a plan to begin with. Why should I have a plan _now_?"

Hermione grimaced. "Well, it should have been easy and simple, right? You help us get inside Casterly Rock, we snatch the Mountain and leave again."

The small man sighed. "Yes, Hermione. Unfortunately, the unexpected presence of You-Know-Who and his lovely friends make things rather complicated. But have no fear. Me and Bronn here are used to these kind of, well, _situations_. Truth be told, we've already been through worse. Right, Bronn?"

Bronn shrugged. "Yeah, can't say it ever gets boring with our little lordling here. It's a miracle we're still alive. Not that I'm complaining or anything. As long as I get my payment, I'm fine."

Tyrion turned to Hermione, winking at her. "And a Lannister always pays his debts."

"Great. Just great." She commented dryly, standing there with her hands on her hips.

_Ah, I love it when she gives me that look._ Tyrion thought and went to the door now, leaning his head against the wooden surface and trying to hear if someone was approaching.

There were footsteps and the Lannister Lord quickly gestured to the other two to prepare themselves. The girl drew her vine wood wand and Bronn was already on his feet, lifting his sword.

A bald man entered the chambers, dressed in costly, orange and yellow-coloured robes and smelling of lavender perfume.

Tyrion swung the door shut behind him, trapping the Master of Whisperers in his own quarters.

"Lord Varys, how nice of you to join us."

"Lord Tyrion," Varys licked his lips nervously, his eyes gaping at Hermione's wand and Bronn's sword "it is so good to see you again, my lord. Though I have not expected you to visit me here in my humble chambers."

Tyrion frowned. "They are excessively humble indeed, my lord. Don't tell me you actually sleep in that stone bed there. I thought you'd prefer a warm and comfortable feather bed."

Varys smiled innocently. "I have this dreadful backache and I favour a hard surface, my lord."

"We all have our little aches and pains, do we not? But enough of this. I take it you know why we're here?" Tyrion asked, knowing full well the question was rather pointless. The Spider had his eyes and ears everywhere.

"Oh, but of course. My little birds tell me everything." The spymaster replied and regarded the other two with great interest. "Bronn, the sellsword. We already know each other."

And his eyes moved to Hermione. Unlike Tyrion and Bronn she wore casual clothing, a dark-blue jeans and a grey cardigan. And just like Bronn's leather armour and Tyrion's crimson doublet, her clothes were also dirty from all the fighting.

"And here we have Hermione Jean Granger, born on 19 September, 1979 and currently a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your parents are Wendell and Monica Granger, both Muggles who work as dentists in London. According to Remus Lupin you are the cleverest witch of your age, highly skilled and very talented. You're top of your class and always receive the highest scores. And of course let's not forget you possess a ginger-haired half-Kneazle named Crookshanks. I could go on and report in full of your adventurous experiences at Hogwarts but I don't want to bore your companions here."

Hermione stood there with an open mouth. "How do you know so much about me?"

"Lord Varys knows everything, Hermione. He would gladly tell you your blood type or your shoe size if you would ask him." Tyrion remarked dryly and addressed Varys again. "Since you know so much you can surely aid us to get us out of here."

"I could, my lord. But _why_ should I? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't deliver you to Lord Voldemort or your dear father."

"I thought we are friends, Varys." said Tyrion cheerfully.

Varys raised an eyebrow. "Are we, Lord Tyrion? During our last meeting I recall you telling me you'd be sad to kill me."

"And I seem to recall you took that as high praise."

"Indeed."

Tyrion cocked his head sideways. "You swore to serve _my family_ if I'm not mistaken."

The Spider sighed. "And I swore to serve _you_. Very well, you've won my lord. You know I could never deny your wishes. I'd suggest we go to the prison cells first."

"_Go to the prison cells_?" Hermione repeated in a confused tone. "Is this a _trap_?"

The bald man shook his head, giving her a hurt look. "A trap? How could you ever suspect that? I only assumed you'd like to rescue your dear comrades, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley first before you decide to leave us again."

Hermione seemed shocked, whispering. "_They have Harry and Ron_? That _can''t_ be."

"Who captured them?" Tyrion wanted to know.

"The Dark Lord himself. He plans to kill them on the morrow." Varys reported.

"This is bad." Tyrion murmured and exchanged glances with the Granger girl and his sellsword. "I guess we have no other choice. We have to free them first."

"I don't like this, dwarf." Bronn mumbled.

"Are you afraid, Bronn? You can stay here and hide under the bed and we'll fetch you later." Tyrion proposed, grinning.

"And miss all the fun? Forget it."

The dwarf nodded. "It's settled then. Take us to Harry and Ron."

Varys seemed surprised. "_Now_, my lord?"

"The sooner the better. Or does this timing confuse your little schemes, Varys? Maybe you plan to betray us, after all."

"No matter how the Spider weaves his nets, he is never trusted." The other man murmured sadly.

Tyrion grimaced. He would never truly trust Varys. No one knew what game the Spider was really playing. This man was inscrutable. He could either be your best friend or your worst enemy.

But they had no other choice. For now they had to depend on him. Only he knew all the secret passages within Casterly Rock.

"Well, I'd preferably trust you than Littlefinger." Tyrion admitted reluctantly.

"Oh yes, Littlefinger..." Varys pondered, stroking his chin with a powdered finger. "A man with great ambition and no morals. I wouldn't trust him either."

"Littlefinger? Who's that?" Hermione asked.

"Lord Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin." Bronn explained.

Varys smiled, seemingly amused. "Littlefinger is the second most devious man in the world, my lady."

She regarded him curiously. "And who's the first one?"

An enigmatic smile played on the spymaster's lips. "Ah, that would be _me_."

Hermione gave the little Lannister lord a sceptical look. "And you _trust_ this man? I don't think that's a good idea."

Tyrion shrugged. "If he betrays us, be so kind to remind me to kill him."

The bald man tittered. "_Kill me_? My lord please, let us not talk about such gruesome things."

Varys went to the stone bed now, pushing a hidden button beneath it. The bed was floating up, revealing a secret door.

A loud groan could be heard as he opened it and beckoned them to follow him. "Do be careful, my friends. The steps are steep. It would be such a tragedy if you would slip and break your necks during your rescue mission." he warned and descended the stairway.

Tyrion and the others exchanged wary glances and went after him, everyone of them feeling queasy as they entered the pitch-black tunnel. It was so dark he could see nothing. Not even one single ray of light. A damp, bone-chilling coldness crept up his spine that set him to shiver instantly.

"Duck your heads, the tunnel is very narrow here." Varys said somewhere in front of them but the warning came too late. There were loud noises and curses as he heard Bronn and Hermione banging their heads against the stony ceiling.

"Ouch! _Seven hells_!" Bronn screamed and he heard Hermione complaining in an annoyed tone. "Merlin's beard, you should have warned us earlier! Why do we have to stumble through the darkness? I should cast Lumos."

"I would seriously advise against that, my lady." Varys quickly said. "This part of the castle is very old. The chambers here were used as torture cells. Trust me, you don't want to see _this_. It'll only give you nightmares for the rest of your life."

The girl gulped and walked further without protest. Rattling sounds of keys could be heard now. Varys probably fumbled around a door in front of them. It piqued Tyrion's curiosity and he waddled forward and bumped into someone, falling backward with a muffled thud.

He rubbed his neck and heard Hermione's concerned voice above him. "Tyrion, are you ok? Wait, let me help you."

Tyrion felt her warm hands sliding around his shoulders now, helping him up again. "I'm sorry." she said apologetically as she knelt before him. Hermione was so close to him, he could smell her breath, the scent of peppermint filling his nose.

The small blond man was taken aback by her helpfulness. He was used to get no help at all. Who would want to help a dwarf? And a Lannister on top of that? Most people would ignore him, not wanting to waste their time. Yet this girl had helped him and without thinking he kissed her cheek lightly. "Thank you, Hermione."

"No problem. Just be careful next time. I don't think it's safe walking around here without a lighting charm."

He grinned. "Yes, I shall try to keep our collisions to a minimum."

Hermione laughed at that and sighed. "I hope this will all work out. I'm worried about Harry and Ron."

"You worry too much, Hermione. Have you forgotten what I've told you before? As long as I'm around, everything will be fine. And trust me, a Lannister always keeps his word." He assured her.


	11. Winter is coming

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

_Author's Note: Yay, the Starks are finally here ;) Thanks again to Sonia605 for reviewing, it's very much appreciated and really makes my day, so thanks a lot. Yes, Harry's plan to capture the Mountain didn't go well but things will get more interesting now, or more complicated._

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><p>The Serpent and the Lion<p>

~Chapter 10: Winter is coming~

The night sky was black, grey ominous clouds were shrouding the moon. The only sound one could hear was the loud rumbling of the sea beneath the castle, wave after wave crashing against the rock. A lone figure walked along a cobble stone path outside. Cersei had received a secret message to meet her father in the godswood. It was an unusual place for a meeting late at night but she thought it was a well-chosen location. This small area was abandoned since no one here worshipped the old gods of the North. No Death Eaters and no spies would trouble them there.

The air was chilly and smelled salty. Shivering, she pulled her green cloak tighter around her body. The Lannister woman let out a soft sigh. It had been a long day. After the incident with the Potter boy and his friend, she didn't have enough time to attend to Joffrey. Her son had been shocked and terrified by the Dark Lord's threat to kill him, showing his lack of understanding of the whole situation.

Like every other Lannister before him, Joffrey had learned at an early age that everyone else was inferior to him. That everyone who didn't belong to the Lannister family was a threat, an enemy. So it wasn't very surprising her son had acted this way in front of Lord Voldemort. She had to admit to herself Joffrey's behaviour was partly her own fault. Her teachings had made him become arrogant and twisted. But she wasn't the only one to blame. Joffrey had also adopted Robert Baratheon's pride and Lord Tywin's cruelty. They all had their fair share in his education and it would be very difficult to curb him.

For two long hours she had tried to calm him down, yet without success. The boy remained stubborn and offended, still believing he had the right to punish the snake lord for treating him like that, for smashing his ego. It was a natural reaction. You either destroy the object of your fear or you submit to it. Her son obviously leaned towards the first option and it would take a long time to make him understand how utterly foolish it was to take on the Dark Lord.

At least Cersei was relieved the Hound was always at her son's side, watching over him. This time she had given Sandor Clegane clear instructions, making sure Joffrey stayed as far away from Voldemort as possible, to prevent him from lurching from one folly to the next one. Never again would she want to experience this horror scenario again, this fear to lose her only son. If she would lose him... Gods forbid, she didn't want to think about that possibility. Her heart would break and her whole world would fall apart.

_Not Joff. Not my little darling._ Vivid images haunted her, replaying in her mind's eye. Images of Voldemort cruelly torturing the Potter boy, announcing the boy's death with an ecstatic gleam in his scarlet eyes. Cersei trembled at the thought the same could happen to her boy.

The woman clenched her fists. Her father must have a plan, a strategy. She was sure of it. Tywin Lannister would find a way out of this predicament. And this also had to be the reason for this meeting. Maybe he would finally reveal how to deal with the Dark Lord and his army of Death Eaters.

It was getting colder now and Cersei was glad when she finally discovered the entrance to the godswood. Torches were attached to long, wooden staffs, illuminating the earthy ground and casting their flickering lights on the trees.

Being here again filled her with a feeling of sadness. It brought back memories of her childhood, of all the times playing hide and seek with her two brothers between these trees.

The leaves rustled beneath her shoes as she moved through the wood to get to the heart tree. As the blonde woman arrived at her destination, she reached out with her hand, touching the pale trunk of the gnarled, old weirwood tree with her fingertips. A red leaf brushed against her cheek and she couldn't take her eyes away from that carved face on the trunk. An eerie face with dark red liquid streaming down its eyes. As if this tree was alive, weeping tears of blood.

There was an old and ancient power residing here. The power of the old gods. The gods of House Stark and the First Men and the Children of the Forest.

"The old gods can see you here, my lady." A quiet voice said behind her.

Surprised, Cersei turned around and found Lord and Lady Stark standing in front of her. They were both wrapped in thick fur coats, keeping them warm. The Starks were Northerners and Lord Eddard Stark resembled the image of a true northman. He wore a solemn expression on his face. His hair was dark brown and his eyes were as grey as the direwolf sigil on his banner. His trimmed beard was beginning to grey and he seemed older than his thirty-five years. His wife, Catelyn Stark didn't have that stern look like her husband. Her facial expression was warm and kind. She looked beautiful with her long, auburn hair and bright-blue eyes.

Cersei gave them a curt bow. "I feel the eyes of your gods staring upon me, Lord Stark. I must confess, I didn't know you're here at the Rock."

Catelyn Stark smiled weakly. "Your lord father has send us a raven, asking us to meet him here. It was rather unexpected and sudden but I'm sure Lord Tywin must have his reasons to summon us."

Lord Stark grimaced. "You must know we seldom leave Winterfell these days and we can't stay here for long. Our family has sworn to protect the North and to support the Night's Watch. Lately, there have been disturbing reports coming from the Wall. A group of rangers told us they had sighted the Others."

Cersei frowned, her forehead creasing. "The _Others_? That's impossible."

She didn't want to believe this. Those rangers must have been hallucinating or dreaming. Or maybe they have been drinking to much ale and mead. The White Walkers didn't exist. They were monsters of a very old fairytale. This story about the long night, a night that had lasted a generation. In that night the Others had appeared for the first time. Dead creatures on dead horses, invading their kingdoms, hunting and killing every single living being they could find. A gruesome tale she had often heard as a young child. Her brother Tyrion loved such stories and found them fascinating. If he would hear about this, he'd probably want to go to the wall himself and would gladly look into that matter, just to satisfy his curiosity.

But she wasn't Tyrion. She would never believe these reports to be true and also didn't feel an urge to visit the wall now.

_White Walkers... _

_What's next? Ghouls, snarks and grumkins?_ She thought.

"I don't want to believe it either, my lady. " The Lord of Winterfell said, sensing her disbelief and went on. "But I plan to investigate these rumours myself. I shall send more of my men to aid the Night's Watch. They will go beyond the ice wall. If the Others really exist, they _will_ find them."

"A waste of time, I would say, Stark." A male voice remarked mockingly.

The voice belonged to Petyr Baelish who had just joined their meeting, together with her father and Lucius Malfoy. They were all clad in black cloaks, merging with the darkness around them.

Lord Stark's voice sounded cold as he eyed the small man. "You must be Littlefinger."

"The one and only." The Master of Coin quipped, bowing in an exaggerated manner that bordered on insolence. He raised an eyebrow. "My reputation apparently precedes me or you're smarter than I thought a Stark could be. I'm curious, pray tell me, how did you know about me?"

"Catelyn has told me all about you, Lord Baelish." The northman replied dryly.

"Only good things, I hope." Littlefinger's sparkling grey-green eyes moved to Lady Stark now and he smiled at her. "Cat, I still remember the last time I saw you. It has been such a long time, hasn't it? And no matter how many years have passed, you are and always will be the queen of beauty. _My_ queen of beauty."

Catelyn Stark nodded and tried to avoid his familiarity, speaking in an unemotional tone. "Thank you, Lord Petyr. You look good as well. The years haven't changed you much."

"My lady is too kind." Lord Baelish said with a sly smile, his fingers stroking his little pointed chin beard.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Baelish grinned while Lord Stark held his wife's hand, giving Littlefinger a dark look. Cersei knew why Stark didn't like this man. There were rumours Lord Baelish was in love with Lady Catelyn, that he once had a duel with Eddard Stark's brother Brandon to win her love. He had lost this fight but it seemed he didn't lose his obsession with this woman, even after her marriage to the Lord of Winterfell.

Catelyn Stark must have noticed the tension between her husband and Littlefinger. She cleared her throat and addressed Lord Tywin Lannister now. "Lord Tywin, thank you for your invitation. I hope you can explain the meaning of this unexpected meeting."

"Certainly, Lady Stark." The Lord of Casterly Rock said and moved closer to shake Eddard Stark's hand. The other lord looked rather uncomfortable, it was obvious he didn't want to be too close to the head of House Lannister. And he probably felt anxious, being here at Casterly Rock with no guards or soldiers surrounding him.

"I know our houses never got along well, Stark. But I believe, and I hope you agree with me, it is time to leave the past behind us. My grandson Joffrey is betrothed to your daughter Sansa and one day they will unite our houses. I think it is our duty to work together and help one another so that they and our future generations can lead a happier life."

"I agree and I also wish for my daughter's happiness and well-being. But you should understand I can't just ignore the past. After all we've been through you will forgive me if I regard this alliance with caution, Lord Tywin." The man of the North said warily.

Cersei knew there was no love between their houses. The Starks resented her father for his late intervention during the rebellion against mad king Aerys. Only when Tywin had been certain of Robert Baratheon's victory, he had offered them his support.

Lord Tywin's cautiousness and reluctance during the last war didn't cast a positive light on House Lannister. And it didn't add to their popularity her brother Jaime had stabbed the mad king in the back, breaking his oath as a member of the Kingsguard. After all these events the other houses had learned to distrust them.

This betrothal had been Robert's last wish and Eddard Stark was Robert Baratheon's best friend, he couldn't refuse a dying man's final proposal. To her it was one of her late husband's better ideas. She had heard Sansa Stark was young and pretty. Through her Joffrey would gain reign over the northern regions. She would be a suitable and qualified match for him.

Tywin Lannister studied the other man carefully and nodded. "I understand my actions during the rebellion give you cause for mistrust, and rightfully so, I might say. However, I hope in time I can earn back your faith."

The Stark Lord still had a guarded expression on his face and her father went on. "I have a proposition. Why don't you bring your daughter here to us? One day she will marry Joffrey and it would be an ideal opportunity they become acquainted with each other. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Stark?"

The other lord frowned, deep in thought. His wife was looking up to him, giving him a sceptical look.

"She is_ too young_, Ned." She pointed out.

"Sansa is old enough and she has learned how to act like a lady." Her husband reminded her.

Catelyn Stark shook her head. "Please, Ned. For the love you bear me, I don't want her to leave. All our children should grow up together at Winterfell."

He caressed her face gently. "You must let her go, my lady. Sansa is eleven now. Her sister Arya may join her, she wouldn't feel alone then. The girls must learn the ways of the court. And Lord Tywin is right. Our children should get to know each other. Let her go, do it for Sansa's sake."

"You want to send _both_ girls?" His wife asked, staring at him and turning to Cersei. "Will my daughters be safe here? Is it not dangerous, with Death Eaters all over the place?"

"I shall protect them as if they were my own children, Lady Stark. You don't need to worry about their safety." Cersei assured her.

Littlefinger nodded. "Trust us, Cat. We shall keep your daughters safe."

"Do you promise me this, Petyr?"

Lord Baelish smiled. "Of course! You know I could never refuse you anything, Cat."

"You're a true friend, Petyr. A true friend." Lady Stark murmured, her body trembling and her husband taking her in his arms to calm her. "It's going to be alright, my lady. And don't forget, Sansa and Arya have their own direwolves. They will always be there to guard the girls. Trust me, they'll be fine."

She didn't protest and only nodded, tears welling in her blue eyes. Eddard Stark kissed her forehead, whispering. "Thank you, my lady."

His grey eyes wandered back to Tywin Lannister. "My personal guard will escort my daughters to Casterly Rock. And now tell me why we had to come here. Surely you haven't summoned us to talk about our children."

Lord Tywin stared at him, his pale, green eyes shining. "My brother Kevan attended the conference held by the Order of the Phoenix and the young Potter boy. Lord Stannis Baratheon was there too. In front of all lords and ladies he had announced to declare himself king."

"This is madness." Stark breathed, not quite believing Lord Stannis would do such a foolish thing.

_A surprise indeed._ Cersei thought. So her suspicions were confirmed. Stannis wants to claim the iron throne, ignoring the fact that Joffrey is the only rightful king according to the laws.

"I agree, this is madness, my lord. But it is not all. If Stannis really marches to King's Landing to crown himself, the Tyrells won't sit idly by and let it happen. According to Varys' spies Highgarden and Storm's End will rise to fight him. It seems, the roses would see this as their chance to put his younger brother, Renly Baratheon on the throne." Tywin told them and continued, curling his hand into a fist, his eyes glinting mercilessly. "Regardless, what happens and who puts the crown on his head, I cannot allow anyone to steal the crown which would rightfully belong to my grandson Joffrey."

"So, this means...", Lord Stark paused for a long moment, narrowing his eyes, not wanting to say it out loud, sighing. "There will be _war _then."

Tywin nodded, a glimmer of gold in his eyes as the torchlight shone off his pupils. "Yes, there will be war. And _bloodshed_ and _death_. It's unavoidable."

_How can father go to war when we have our own war to fight, right here at Casterly Rock? Does he he think he can ignore Voldemort? Is he blind?_ Cersei thought and gave her father a questioning look. "We can't go to war. Not _now_. What about the Dark Lord?"

Tywin exchanged glances with Lucius Malfoy and didn't seem the least bit concerned. "Lord Stannis poses a far greater threat than the serpent. I fear he will be the one giving us sleepless nights, not Voldemort. You needn't worry, Cersei. I have arranged a plan that will keep Voldemort at arm's length."

"And what kind of brilliant _plan_ is this?" She wanted to know, raising an eyebrow.

Instead of her father, Lucius Malfoy replied her question. "There are many Death Eaters who are, well, unhappy with the Dark Lord's rule. Many fear him and don't dare oppose him. But there are also Death Eaters like my son and me who are looking for a way to eliminate him."

"And why would you want to kill your own master, Lucius? If I'm not mistaken, you are one of his most loyal followers. Why should you consider to betray him?" Cersei asked, giving him a doubtful look.

"Voldemort is not the same man I once knew from the First Wizarding War. After his rebirth he has changed. I don't know if his unstableness was caused by his time living in isolation or his excessive use of dark magic, but it doesn't matter. He is more dangerous now and I only want to protect my family, that is all." Malfoy explained.

"Protect your family? That is understandable and it seems we both pursue the same goals, Lucius." Cersei had never given it a second thought before how Lucius felt about all this and realized, he was in the same situation as her. They both wanted to keep their loved ones safe. But why has no one told her about this plan? And how long has Lucius Malfoy been involved in this plot? It seemed he knew more about this than her and it irked her.

"Why haven't you told me about your plan? Did you think it wasn't necessary to tell me?" Her voice reflected her growing anger but she didn't care.

Tywin kept very calm. "You must understand, we can't tell you the exact details. You are always with _him_. It's too risky. Just one moment of carelessness and your Occlumency shield will be penetrated and he would know everything we know."

"And what about Lucius? Why did you let him in on your strategy?"

"Lucius is not you, Cersei. Unlike you he's not Lord Voldemort's favourite new toy. He rarely sees him."

Cersei had to admit, her father had a point there. Voldemort had already read her mind more than once. It could happen again, she had no doubt about it. And it was true, he kept her close. She didn't know why he always demanded her presence lately. There was this nagging feeling inside her, this fear he would turn her into a second Bellatrix Lestrange. That she would become as mad and submissive as her, setting her mind only onto him, how to serve him best. No, she would never turn into the Dark Lord's slave, becoming his little pet. It was a fate she wanted to avoid at all costs.

"I see." She said and knew that this settled it. It was all her father wanted to reveal to her this evening.

"And what about this upcoming war with Stannis Baratheon?" She asked him now. Maybe she would get more information in this regard.

But before Tywin could say anything, Lord Stark spoke first. "I don't want the realm to bleed, Lannister. And I think there's still a chance to settle this matter peacefully."

"What do you have in mind?" Tywin asked him.

"Let me speak to Stannis Baratheon first. I'm sure I can talk some sense into him." Stark offered him.

"Keep in mind that Stannis is not your dear friend Robert, my lord. You can as well try to talk to a wall, it might be more talkative and ready to negotiate than the Lord of Dragonstone. It is known the lobster lord is as stubborn as a goat." Cersei reminded him.

"I know Stannis Baratheon, my lady. We may not be friends and he doesn't like me much but I still think I may be able to get him to listen to me. It is worth a try, do you not agree?"

Tywin gave him a long, thoughtful look and finally agreed. "Go to Dragonstone then, Stark. I still think it's a vain endeavour but I won't keep you."

The Lord Winterfell bowed his head. "Thank you, my lord."

"Regardless of whether the outcome of your negotiations are a success or not, we have to prepare our forces for a possible upcoming war." Her lord father advised him.

Eddard Stark's mouth tightened, a sense of foreboding in his grave voice. "_Winter is coming_."

The Stark words. Cersei shivered instantly as she heard him say those words. These were dark times indeed and winter was truly coming now. The shadow of an impending war loomed all over them and they all had their own battles to fight. In Cersei's eyes it was a constant struggle against the Dark Lord and she only had her focus on him. For the time being Lord Stannis and the other houses didn't concern her, they had to wait. Cersei couldn't allow herself to be distracted. If her father had to deal with Stannis Baratheon and the Tyrells, she would watch his back and keep her eyes on Voldemort instead.

"Let us hope it will be a short winter." Tywin Lannister said.

"Short or long, winter will always be hard. But the Starks will endure. We always have." Lord Stark reminded him.

Cersei suddenly gasped. A burning sensation was crawling over her skin. It felt as if her forearm was getting warmer, the snake tattoo was moving and pulsing. A dark magic was summoning her, beckoning her to come to _him_. He must have felt she didn't immediately respond to his call, the tattoo burned as hot as fire now, the pain becoming stronger and stronger as if Voldemort's mark was reflecting her master's growing impatience.

The young woman gazed at her father and Malfoy, murmuring. "He's calling me."

"You should go to _him_ quickly, my lady. It is unwise to keep him waiting." Lucius Malfoy suggested, a sudden urgency in his voice now and an alarmed look in his grey eyes.

"Malfoy is right. You should go now. And don't forget to stay alert. Don't let the snake's Legilimency invade your mind." Tywin warned her.

"I will be careful." Cersei promised him, taking a bow and bidding everyone farewell. With a faint pop she disapparated in front of their eyes, feeling her whole body being squeezed through a tight, tiny tunnel.


	12. A Web of Schemes

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

_Author's Note: I hope you guys all had a great Thanksgiving. Special thanks again to Sonia605 for reviewing, it makes me really happy and as always, it's much appreciated ;) Yeah, Sansa won't have it easy, and let's not forget Joffrey and Littlefinger to give her troubles. The seasons-thing will be better explained in later chapters when we'll see some scenes that take place at the Wall._

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><p>The Serpent and the Lion<p>

~Chapter 11: A Web of Schemes~

Cersei blinked for a few seconds, fighting this unpleasant feeling of disorientation after apparating to her Master's side. Looking around she found herself standing in her father's chambers. It was his study, a high-ceilinged large room, with great glass-paned windows. The décor and the furniture were the height of elegance, the red stone walls were painted all over with an intricate floral design.

Her father's books piled up neatly upon the many shelves, their contents covering an extensive area about subjects such as magic, potion-making, transfiguration, history, warfare, astronomy, religion or philosophy.

The woman could see a fireplace at the far end, flooding the interior with warm, yellow light. A comfortable armchair was placed before the fire, but as she moved closer, she noticed it was empty. No one was here.

_Where is he?_

Furrowing her brow Cersei went to the large windows. Beyond the panes she could see the balcony. A tall, imposing shadow was leaning against the stone railing, his white pearly skin strangely glowing in the darkness.

Lord Voldemort turned to her in a swirl of fabric, his thin black robes fluttering in the wind. Scarlet eyes watched her every move as she walked through the ornately carved wooden door to meet him.

The fresh sea breeze blew against her skin and she could smell the brine in her nostrils. Every other Death Eater would probably sink to his or her knees now and kiss the hem of his robe, but she was tired of this grovelling behaviour, only taking a bow.

"You're late, Cersei." Voldemort hissed, a trace of irritation in his high-pitched voice, yet not seeming to mind that she didn't approach him with the proper reverence.

"Forgive my lateness, my lord. I was with my son." Cersei lied, thinking there was at least some truth in it.

"With your son? Or have you been with your father, conspiring behind my back and scheming my downfall?" The dark wizard asked, his blood-red eyes piercing into her green ones, examining her carefully.

"You know I would never dare act against you, my lord. I am your loyal servant." She assured him, not avoiding his searching eyes.

"Is that so?" Voldemort wondered, gazing at her for a long moment, a sinister smile playing across his thin lips. "I shall look forward to test your loyalty thoroughly then, my dear."

An ivory finger beckoned her to come closer and she approached him warily. Why had he summoned her at this hour? What did he want from her? Oh, how she hated this. This feeling of uncertainty and uneasiness, not knowing what awaited her here.

The Dark Lord offered her a glass of wine. "Lord Tywin's servants told me this is your father's favourite vintage."

Cersei took the glass reluctantly, swirling the red wine, sniffing at it. A familiar sweet scent filled her nostrils. "Arbor gold. An excellent choice, my lord." She murmured.

For a moment Voldemort seemed amused, seeing her hesitation. "Have no fear, Cersei, this wine is not poisoned." And as if he wanted to prove it, he took a swallow of his own wine now, looking down upon her over his cup.

"It is unwise to let your guard down. I have learned this lesson at a very early age." She told him, taking a sip herself and savouring the rich flavours in her mouth.

"Casterly Rock is a death-trap for the unwary ones, is it not?"

The blonde woman nodded, smiling thinly. "Yes, you could say that."

Voldemort put down his glass and cocked his head to the side, hissing a string of syllables in a language she couldn't understand. Parseltongue, the language of the serpents.

Something was moving, coming closer and closer. There was the sound of a heavy body sliding across the floor, accompanied by loud hissing noises.

Her eyes searched for the source of the sounds and she spotted his familiar, the gigantic green serpent he called Nagini. The great viper entered the balcony and slithered toward her, beginning to slowly coil around her ankles. This scenario immediately reminded her of her first nightmare the Dark Lord had sent her. Thinking back Cersei could barely contain a shudder, unconsciously letting her glass drop and faintly registering the sound of shattering shards. It took her a lot of willpower not to panic now. A lioness should never show any signs of weakness, especially not in front of this man.

She swallowed, asking him this nagging question on her mind, trying to ignore his pet at her feet. "May I ask why you have called me at this late hour, my lord?"

"I think you already know the answer to your question." Voldemort replied, his high voice softening.

_What game is he playing now? How should I know what's going on in his mind?_ She thought, trying to recall the recent events and wondering what he was referring to.

Suddenly the Dark Lord started to pace and circle around her, entering and leaving her field of vision again and again. It was unsettling her. Cersei couldn't quite say how to interpret his behaviour. Voldemort seemed restless but she didn't know the reason why. This man changed his mood in a matter of seconds. You never knew what to expect or what he might do next.

"I have called you," he began, pausing his movement to look at her with an unreadable glint in his cat-like eyes. "to _reward you_, Cersei. Your performance was more than satisfactory. I am very pleased and I knew you wouldn't disappoint me tonight."

_A reward?_ She thought warily. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Would he provide an unfortunate Muggle family to let her torture and kill them? She had heard this was one of his Death Eater's most favoured amusements. Not really an activity she was particularly looking forward to. Or maybe it was even worse. Her mind was already conceiving the worst possibilities and she couldn't help but feel anxious about his reward, fear bubbling up in her stomach.

She grimaced, downplaying her role as the servant who had assisted him capturing Harry Potter. "Thank you, my lord. But it was nothing, really. Every other Death Eater would have aided you just as well. I don't think it is necessary to reward me."

"Ah, but I insist. You have well deserved Lord Voldemort's gratitude." He said softly.

Something was amiss here. Since the successful capture of the Potter boy this man seemed to be in a good mood. His calm, collected composure and his unusual gentleness were unnerving, setting off the alarm bells in her head.

The dark wizard was behind her now. She wanted to turn around but was unable to move. His snake made sure she didn't leave this spot, trapping her there effectively. Every time Cersei struggled against her living shackles, Nagini would lift its triangular head to hiss at her threateningly.

But the snake was the least of her concerns now as she suddenly felt Voldemort's body pressing against her back, his arms entwining around her and holding her in a tight embrace. His snake-like face was so close to hers that she instantly held her breath, taken aback by the sudden nearness.

"No." She breathed, squirming and trying to break away from him but the dark wizard was stronger than her, holding her firmly in his grip. From the corner of her eye she could see him smiling, he was clearly enjoying her discomfort.

"I want _you_, Cersei. I want to own you. _Completely_." He hissed in her ear and his long-fingered hands grabbed her cloak, pulling it off her body in one swift, graceful motion. Beneath it she wore an elegant green gown. It was cut low, revealing her bare shoulders and the tops of her breasts.

Her pulse quickened as she heard his intake of breath, his flat nose almost touching her skin. "Surely there can be no higher reward and no greater honour... to be claimed by Lord Voldemort himself. Do you not agree, my dear?" His voice was a murmur, a cold breath ghosting over her skin.

_Honour? There can be no greater humiliation._ Cersei thought dryly.

"I was under the impression the great Dark Lord is far above these carnal desires." Cersei forced herself to smile. It was perfectly clear what he wanted from her. However, she had never thought this might happen. After her failed attempts to use her womanly charms on him, she had concluded Lord Voldemort was the kind of man who would never succumb to primal activities.

He chuckled, seemingly amused. "It is true, I seldom indulge myself in mundane pleasures of the flesh. I do believe it is not as intoxicating as the unmatched sensation of delving into the Dark Arts and unfortunately, it cannot provide the same stimulation. With you, however, I am certain to experience an equal pleasure, so I am willing to make an exception."

"But I am already yours, my lord. I bear your mark."

"The dark mark is only a symbol, Cersei, a sign of ownership." One of his hands moved down her left arm, pulling up her wide sleeve. His cold fingertips traced along the lines of her tattoo, a burning sensation running through her like liquid fire flowing through her veins, making her skin prickle.

"But we both know it is not enough. It is not enough to make you mine. You have not submitted to me yet."

_This can't be happening._ Cersei thought. This was not the way she had planned it. Not at all. She had been certain it would be easier this time, being back again at Casterly Rock. To have the upper hand, to be in control again. And now this. She knew what he had in mind, what he wanted to achieve. It was his way of showing his dominance over her. Through this act he would not only extend his control over her, no, he would additionally wound her father's pride too. Maybe this had been his plan all along.

"Never forget you are my possession," He reminded her as he bent over her, his cold lips brushing sensually over the side of her neck as he continued "you are mine to do with as I please and I shall claim you fully, Cersei. Your body and soul, both belong to me now."

"Why?" The young woman wanted to know. She tried hard to stay unaffected by his touch and failed miserably. A heat was building inside her and she was unable to ignore it. Her own body was betraying her, unwillingly responding to his caresses, making her feel vulnerable and weak.

_This is so wrong, so wrong on so many levels. But why, gods, why does this feel so good?_ She asked herself.

And it was even worse that it was _him._ This man who had been a threat to her family was the one to stir these conflicting emotions inside her, torn between want and hate. It should be Jaime who awakened this desire in her, not him. Her twin was the only one she needed, he was her shadow, her soul mate, her other half. Only he was the one being able to let her feel whole again.

Cersei trembled, perceiving him aspirate his cold breath over her skin, raising hairs on her neck. An invisible force was pulling her back now, her body flush against him. Struggling she let out a gasp as her head fell backwards, resting against his shoulder now.

The Dark Lord brushed strands of her long, curly hair aside to have access to the smooth skin of her throat. The thin lips of his mouth travelled down to the sensitive base of her neck, lower and lower, placing feathery kisses on her exposed skin, descending dangerously close towards her breasts.

"Why, you ask?" She heard him whisper over her skin. "I think we are very much alike, Cersei. Truth be told you remind me of my younger self and this similarity intrigues me. You are beautiful, cunning, clever and you know what you want and how to manipulate the people around you to obtain your goals. Your loyalty to your family may be misplaced but it is quite commendable."

"Your eyes... ," He paused, lifting his face and staring intensely into her emerald eyes, "they captivate me. This fiery green wildfire in your eyes, unafraid and unyielding. How I have longed to extinguish your fire, Cersei. But I see it now, you shouldn't lose that spark of yours. It is what you are. A lioness. _My_ fiery lioness."

Voldemort's head leaned against hers as he was beginning to tighten his embrace, very similar to a snake strengthening its hold on its prey. A possessive gesture which caused her to feel like a trapped animal, unable to escape from his clutches. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a sibilant whisper. "And your fire belongs to _me _now_._ _Only me_."

Cersei quivered, hearing him say these words. She was a proud Lannister of the Rock. A golden lion. Did this snake really think he could claim her that easily? That he could tame a lion?

_I am a lion. I must be a lion. And a lion will never submit to anyone!_

"_Never_! I will never submit to you!" She hissed like an angry cat, glaring at him defiantly.

For a few seconds his ruby red eyes darkened. There was a brief flash of anger contorting his serpentine features, his upper lip twitching and his slit nostrils flaring as he loomed over her. Cersei refused to back down, staring into those two boiling pools of fire, unflinching. A storm was roiling beneath his calm exterior, dark and terrifying. But to her relief that tense moment passed as the Dark Lord took a long deep breath, slowly regaining his composure again.

"You are mistaken, my dear." Lord Voldemort's voice sank to a low, frightening whisper, his nail sliding across her bottom lip and his eyes boring into hers. "You _will_ submit to me. If I wish I could simply_ force_ you to submit to me. However, this would be too easy, an all too easy victory. No, it wouldn't satisfy me and it wouldn't serve my purpose at all."

"I want you to surrender, Cersei. _Give yourself to me_." He urged and buried one hand in her hair and yanked her closer to him, while his other hand held his yew wand, hissing. "_Crucio_!"

Her body went limp in his arms. The instant pain of the Cruciatus Curse hit her with full force, she almost feared she might lose her consciousness. It felt like powerful hands were tearing her body apart, every single limb torn to shreds. In that one cruel moment he removed the curse, leaving her in an unguarded state. Voldemort seized this instance and his lips caught hers in a demanding kiss, swallowing her screams of agony.

Cersei stifled a moan, feeling his forked tongue exploring her mouth.

She didn't know if it was due to the sensation of sudden pain or adrenaline rushing through her whole system that she felt this way but... gods, never had a kiss felt so exhilarating. No one had ever kissed her like that before, with such intensity and ferocity. Not Robert, nor Jaime. The other man must have read her thoughts as she felt him smiling against her lips, only deepening the kiss now.

_Two can play that game. _Cersei thought, her tongue wrestling with his in a battle for domination. A chuckle escaped his soft lips and he suddenly pulled away from her, his livid eyes observing her dazed expression intently.

The young woman was still catching her breath as she watched him stroking her cheek with a slender finger, every single touch igniting something deep within her.

"Sooner or later you will give in to me, my lioness. You will beg me to devour you and I, being a generous lord, shall oblige."

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

They all stepped into a dim-lit room where the furnishings were quite lavish. It was exquisitely decorated with flowers and beautiful paintings. The wooden doors were adorned with strikingly beautiful carvings. Even the door handles were fashioned of glittering gold, having the shape of a lion's head. The floor was set with delicately engraved stones and brightly coloured porcelain tiles. It was one of the many chambers in Casterly Rock which mirrored the conspicuous wealth of House Lannister.

Tyrion didn't have time to appreciate his new surroundings. Like the others he coughed and wiped the dust and spiderwebs off his hair and clothing.

"Where are we, Varys?" The little Lannister Lord asked the bald man, his eyes only slowly adjusting to the light, after walking through this pitch-black darkness for what seemed like an eternity.

"We currently stand in your father's chambers, my lord." Varys answered, closing the secret door behind him with a soft clicking sound.

"Father's chambers? I knew this room seemed somewhat familiar." Tyrion murmured, recognizing the moving portraits of his ancestors hanging on the walls and glancing at Lord Tywin's golden chest which contained his father's favourite weapon collection.

Tired and exhausted he dragged himself to the nearest armchair, hopping up to sit in it. "Thank the gods for the one who invented the chair." The small man sighed. His legs were cramping badly and he rubbed his tense muscles but the pain wouldn't leave him.

"Are you alright, Tyrion? I could try a healing charm..." Hermione offered, her voice sounding worried.

"No, thank you, Hermione. It's nothing, really. I have these aches all the time." He explained, not wanting the girl to needlessly worry over him.

Bronn sat on a tabletop, where he began munching on grapes that had been lying there in a porcelain bowl.

Hermione frowned at him, an annoyed look in her hazel eyes. "You can't be serious."

Bronn's mouth was full with fruits and he shrugged leisurely. They could hear him mumble between his chewing noises. "Can't you see? I'm starving, girl. All this walking around in these gloomy tunnels is making me hungry."

The bushy-haired witch shook her head, not believing what she saw and warning them. "We shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous."

"The young lady is right." Varys nodded, nervously wringing his hands. "It is unwise to linger here longer than necessary."

"Why did you bring us here anyway, Varys? Is this another one of your tricks?" Tyrion asked the Spider, his green and black eye staring at him. Other men usually avoided his strange eyes but Varys didn't seem to mind.

Lord Varys smiled in that unctuous way, crossing his arms and hiding his soft hands inside the sleeves of his robe. "No trick, good lord. There's no need to worry yourself. We are only here to enter another passageway. I fear this is the only path to get to the prison."

"Well, no one seems to be here so I guess, we can stay a while longer." The little Lannister Lord gave a crooked shrug, still massaging his legs and wondering if his father had stored his wine here. Alcohol was just what he needed after this long day. It would help him forget this maddening pain that shot through him every time he attempted to move a leg.

"Lo-Lo-Lo-Lord Tyrion? Mylord, is-is that you?" A frightened voice asked from below the wooden table where Bronn was sitting on. Frowning, the sellsword lifted the burgundy-red table-cloth, revealing a young boy hiding beneath it, timid as a mouse, shivering under their gaze.

Tyrion slid off his chair, looking surprised to see his squire there. "Pod? What in seven hells are you doing here?"

The twelve year old boy was only a little taller than himself, wearing the familiar gold and crimson robes of a Lannister servant. He crawled forth and got up, staring at Tyrion's leather boots, too afraid to look into his mismatched eyes.

"They told me to prepare these chambers for the Lord. And when I heard these strange noises..." He looked up for a split second, quickly averting his eyes again. "I thought I go somewhere safe."

"Hiding under a table?" Tyrion asked in an amused tone, watching the boy flinch again.

"No, I mean yes, my lord." He quickly stammered in response.

"Who is this boy?" Hermione asked, regarding him curiously.

The Lannister Lord smirked. "Pod? He's my squire. It is one of my father's bad japes, sending a squire to serve a stunted, twisted dwarf such as me. Well, Pod, why don't you introduce yourself to Miss Hermione Granger?"

Pod blushed and tentatively stole a glance at her face, not daring to meet her brown eyes. "Po-Po-Po-Podrick, my lady. Podrick Payne. Of House Payne. Pleased to meet you."

Hermione gave him a warm smile. "Hello Podrick, I'm pleased to meet you too."

The colour of Pod's cheeks turned pink and his gaze was fixed on his own feet now. Bronn rolled his dark eyes and tapped the boy's shoulder with a fingertip which didn't really help calming his nervousness. The poor boy jumped at the touch, cringing in shock.

Bronn laughed. "Relax, boy. We're not going to eat you or anything."

"No, I mean yes, ser. I know." He babbled, his face as red as a Muggle warning sign.

"So you were preparing the chambers for my dear father? He doesn't seem to be here, though." Tyrion said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

The boy with the short brown hair shook his head. "No-no, not your father, my lord. _He's_ staying here. He's currently in the study. The balcony, my lord. Sorry."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Please, Pod. Calm down and answer me again. _Who_ is inside there?"

"His Lordship. The Dark Lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Lord Voldemort. No, I'm sorry. I mean the Heir of Slytherin." He said, nervously glancing up and quickly looking away again.

"One might think there's a whole army of Dark Lords lurking behind that door if you say it like that, Pod." The little lord sighed, running his hand through his blonde hair.

The young boy flinched again as if struck by lightning and suddenly, absurdly, Tyrion felt guilty, wanting to give some word of apology.

"Did you know the Dark Lord is currently occupying my father's quarters, Varys?" Tyrion asked the spymaster curiously.

Varys quickly licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. "No, my lord. Trust me, I didn't know and I must confess, it is quite unexpected."

"Yes, quite _unexpected_ indeed." Tyrion agreed, regarding the bald man suspiciously. Nothing escaped Lord Varys' attention. Therefore it was highly unlikely he didn't know about this. But if Varys knew, why didn't he tell them? Was the Spider hiding something and only playing a game? Did he plan to hand them to You-Know-Who on a silver platter? But Tyrion didn't want to elaborate on these thoughts, they would only lead him to a dark place. And besides, there was no turning back now. He doubted they would be able to find the cells on their own. Most likely they would get lost in this maze of secret passages.

Hermione was already reaching for her wand and biting her bottom lip, fear in her voice. "If _he_ is here, then..."

Bronn didn't seem to be bothered at all, casually waving a hand at her. "I don't see a Dark Lord here. So sit and calm down, girl."

"_Calm down_?" She asked, raising her voice and flashing her brown eyes at him. "You-Know-Who is probably behind that door and you're seriously telling me to _calm down_? You've got to be kidding me!"

Varys touched her arm with his powdered hand, trying to soothe her. "Would you please mind to keep your voice low, sweet lady? He might hear us, you know."

The Granger girl pulled free of his touch and folded her arms across her chest, grimacing. "Fine! But I still think we should get away from here... _Now_!" She added impatiently.

"Very well, we should heed the lady's advice. I don't want to push our luck, my friends." Tyrion said, giving the girl an affirmative nod and turning to Podrick Payne again.

"Just one more thing before we leave, Pod. Did you bring a bottle of wine with you by any chance? A glass of strong dornish wine is just what I need right now. These exciting rescue missions tend to make me thirsty."

"No, my lord." His squire muttered, his eyes downcast.

"That's a pity."

Hermione forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder, mumbling. "You can drink each and every firewhisky bottle when we're back at Grimmauld Place, my lord. Let's go _now_."

Bronn chuckled as he watched the young witch drag Tyrion behind her. "Look, who's wearing the breeches."

She then flashed her eyes at the sellsword, ordering him in a commanding tone. "You too, _move_!"

"Yes, ma'am. Damn, she sounds just like my old mother." Bronn grumbled, following them.

Suddenly they all stopped in their tracks, their heads turning around as the doors flew open with a wall-shaking crash. Bronn had drawn his sword and the Granger girl instinctively raised her wand while Podrick fell down in shock. Varys quickly ducked his head as if someone had thrown a rock at him. Tyrion had been appalled too, hearing that loud noise, needing a few seconds to recover again.

The Lannister Lord didn't need to think twice to guess who had found them here. A tall, gaunt man stood at the open door, wearing black robes like a Death Eater. His serpentine face was unnaturally pale and flattened. And Tyrion couldn't take his eyes away from the other man's scarlet livid eyes. There was something unsettling about his eyes, it made his blood run cold. Tyrion only noticed now that his sister was with the snake lord, standing close behind him.

_Things are only getting better and better._ He thought dryly.

"Tyrion?" He heard his sister ask in a surprised tone, her bright green eyes studying him.

"Cersei," The little lord turned to her. "how I have missed your sweet voice."

She gave him a searching look. "What are you doing here, brother?"

"As I recall I am still the youngest son of Tywin Lannister and I've used to live here. Do you remember?"

"Your other brother?" Lord Voldemort asked her and she silently nodded in response.

"Not what you have expected, huh? I am truly sorry to disappoint your expectations, my lord."

"Oh, I didn't expect much." Voldemort sneered in a mocking tone, his thin lips curling into an evil smile as his crimson eyes noticed the Granger girl. "And who do we have here? It's Potter's little Mudblood friend."

Hermione tensed, holding her wand firmly in her hand, ready to cast a stunning spell.

"Keep calm, Hermione." Tyrion said, placing a small hand on her arm.

Cersei frowned. "You're befriending Mudbloods now? I didn't think you could sink any lower."

"And what about you, sweet sister?" Tyrion retorted, his eyes momentarily glancing at Voldemort and moving back to her. Her cheeks were lightly flushed and her flowing blonde hair seemed slightly dishevelled. He wasn't blind and knew his sister well, and he had his suspicions what was going on here. "Surely you couldn't sink any lower as well."

"_What _do you mean?" There was a sharp edge in her voice now as she glared at him.

"Well, I never thought you might fancy a snake. What would our dear brother Jaime say if he knew about this? You do remember your twin, do you? Tall man, blonde hair, green eyes, handsome face, sometimes a bit arrogant and bold but we both love him for that. And now it seems you prefer snakes..."

Tyrion paused for a moment, watching the anger flaring in her beautiful green eyes. He tapped his chin thoughtfully and went on. "You may rejoice to hear I've offered Prince Oberyn Martell to introduce him to you. I think he wasn't averse to my proposal."

She snorted. "Offering _me_ to the Red Viper? Don't make me laugh, little brother."

Tyrion gave her a lop-sided grin. "Why not? I think father wouldn't be opposed to this notion. In fact he has often told me you should marry again."

"Oh, really? And father has told me he intends sending you to the Wall. Did your small ears hear _that_ too?" She asked, giving him her sweetest smile.

The dwarf gave her an exaggerated, aghast look, his hands pointing at himself. "Sending me to the Wall? To do _what_? To howl with the wolves and freeze my manhood off?"

"The Wall offers so many possibilities, dear brother. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time hunting snarks, grumkins and whatnot."

"No, thanks, I refuse to take the black, sweet sister. It was never my colour." returned Tyrion dryly.

"Regrettably, you don't have a say in the matter. Father has already made up his mind and I'm sure he'll be delighted to tell you his decision himself." Cersei said.

Tyrion smirked. "Oh yes, please. I can't wait to see our dear father again. Look at me, my heart is already jumping with joy."

Voldemort held up a pale hand and interrupted their verbal sparring. "Your family reunion can wait, Cersei. First, we shall offer our guests a proper greeting, don't you think?"

Cersei nodded, stepping back. "As you wish, my lord."

Voldemort's red eyes wandered over each and everyone of them, contemplating his next move. His fingers played with his yew wand as he regarded the Master of Whisperers.

"You have done exceedingly well, Varys. Leading them all to me without any difficulties. A feat that all my Death Eaters were unable to accomplish, it seems. You will prove yourself very useful in the near future." The Dark Lord acknowledged, seemingly pleased.

Lord Varys bowed deeply. "I only live to serve you, my lord."

"Varys, you slimy..." Tyrion began, not quite believing what he had just heard right now. He should have known. It was his fault. He knew he couldn't trust the Spider, he did have his doubts and reservations before. But still it was bitter, experiencing betrayal like that. Just when he believed everything would turn out all right... How utterly foolish he had been!

Varys smiled apologetically. "I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, good lord. You must understand, I had no other choice."

"_Forgive you_? After betraying us, Varys? We have _trusted_ you. _I_ have _trusted_ you." Tyrion said accusingly.

Varys sighed. "One day, surely, you will understand, my lord. It is all for the good of the realm."

No, he didn't understand anything. And he didn't want to understand this man's motives either. All he wanted this very moment was to cut off his treacherous tongue and feed it to a goat.

"Ah, little Lannister. No need to be so upset over this. Did you really think I would be inattentive and blind, letting your pathetic group slip through my fingers and get away with my prisoner? No, Harry Potter shall stay where he belongs. He is _mine_ now! I shall give him pain beyond pain before he will die an exquisite death at my hands." Voldemort spat, his wand twirling in his long fingers.

"Leave Harry alone, you evil monster!" Hermione yelled, pointing her wand at him.

"_Silence_, Mudblood!" The Dark Lord snarled and paced nearer, hissing "_Crucio_!"

The Granger girl collapsed as the curse slammed into her. Painful screams echoed off the chamber's walls, her entire body shaking violently and writhing on the ground.

Tyrion had never felt so helpless in his life. If he could use magic like his siblings, he'd be able to save her from this cruel torture. Yet, he could do nothing. He was a useless squib.

Bronn whispered in his ear. "You want me to fight _him_, dwarf?"

"I'd want you to _kill him_, my friend." Tyrion replied in a quiet tone, watching Voldemort flick his wand that slashed deep cuts into Hermione's arms.

"_Kill him_? You're a funny man, Lannister." Tyrion was sure the sellsword was grinning, his voice sounded somewhat amused as he continued. "If you want me to kill him, you should offer me more than gold, women and Lannister gratitude."

He frowned, whispering. "And what do you want, Bronn?"

"A castle. A really big castle. Harrenhal would be nice. Lord Bronn of Harrenhal, how does that sound, eh?" He nudged his shoulder.

Tyrion grimaced. "Sounds ridiculous, Bronn. Seriously, I can't offer you a castle. And I don't even have one myself. Ask me again when my dear father decides to hand over Casterly Rock to me."

"No castle then. Well, I'm sorry, dwarf. You know, I like you, I really do. But I won't risk my life for nothing."

"I should have known that a bloody sellsword like you wouldn't want to be my knight in shining armour." Tyrion whispered in a sarcastic tone, smiling wryly.

"No, this bloody sellsword here values his life. So, what now? Wanna fight him yourself?" Bronn wanted to know.

"Yes, sure. That would be a sight to behold. The little half-man battling against the Dark Lord... I could try to step on his toe, kick his legs or punch his loins." The Lannister lord suggested.

Bronn shrugged. "Yeah, why not? If you're lucky you could inflict some damage there."

The screams have turned to quiet sobs now. The Dark Lord stood above her lying body, his cruel gaze turning to them.

"Where are my manners?" Voldemort asked, giving them all a devious grin. "I have almost forgotten our other guests here. Do not worry, my friends, you shall all receive my full attention. Everyone shall be treated equally."

"Dwarf," Bronn grimaced and held up his sword. "I just wanted to remind you, the payment has increased now."

Tyrion looked up to him, smiling thinly. "Why am I not surprised?"


	13. A Lannister always pays his debts

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories._

_Author's Notes: Hello everyone, sorry for the slow update this time. Work had been too much lately and I didn't have the time to write anything. So I hope you enjoy the newest chapter, it's the longest one, I think ;)_

_And a big, big thank you again to Sonia605 for taking the time to leave a review. Yeah, Varys has his own agenda here and he's playing his games with everyone. Let's see out it all turns out..._

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><p>The Serpent and the Lion<p>

~Chapter 12: A Lannister always pays his debts~

It felt like he'd been buried in this ocean of darkness for years, that he'd been bathing and floating in it forever. There was no light, no sound, no warmth, no feeling. As if all his senses were numb here. Was it possible he was losing his sanity in this nightmare? Harry wanted so desperately to wake up again. Any second he was sure he'd open his eyes and realize it only had been a dream. That all this wasn't real. It couldn't be real. How could someone endure this cruel torment? This loneliness? This hopelessness and despair weighing heavily on his heart? Was there a way out of this hole? The boy didn't know. For hours he ran and ran, his naked feet touching cold and wet ground, but nothing changed. Darkness followed him wherever he went, like an impenetrable shroud enveloping his entire being.

_Please... Someone, anyone, help me! Find me! Ron! Hermione! Tyrion! Sirius! Please! _He often tried calling for his friends and his godfather, somehow hoping they would hear his cries for help. But to no avail. No one heard him down here and no one came to free him.

Just when he was almost breaking down, on the verge of going mad, someone finally found him.

Soothing, red and yellow light blinded his vision. The bright light dispelled the darkness instantly and Harry couldn't help but cry now, crying tears of relief that he wasn't alone any longer.

And it was an unexpected surprise his saviour turned out to be the red priestess of Asshai, Melisandre. The woman stood there in front of him, burning brilliantly like fire itself. Her thin satin robes swirled around her slender figure like dancing flames as her red eyes found him.

Melisandre's red lips curved into a smile as she spoke softly. "The Dark Lord tried to conceal you from me, Harry, yet his power is no match for the power of R'hllor, the Lord of Light. The darkness cannot hide you from me."

Harry adjusted his glasses, giving her a questioning look. "So this was all Voldemort's doing? I am trapped here because of _him_?"

Images were playing in his inner mind's eye. Once again he was experiencing defeat at Voldemort's hands, hearing his threat to kill him in front of all his friends and comrades. And then there was nothing. After this point his memories had faded away completely. He had been plunged into darkness, not knowing how he got here and how long he had been staying here.

The woman with the long copper-red hair only nodded silently, watching the anguish on Harry's face, knowing there was no word of comfort she could offer him now. That Harry needed time to process this revelation himself.

For a few minutes Harry had turned away, his eyes fixed on the yawning void and his whole body trembling with anger. What Voldemort had done to him was cruel and indescribable. No one deserved to suffer like this. Compared to this living hell, death almost seemed like a blessing to him.

The young wizard cleared his throat. "Where am I? What is this place?"

"Where?" Melisandre asked, her shining red eyes looking around and her gaze returning back to him. "A very interesting question, Harry. I think you should specify this."

Harry frowned, not quite understanding her. "Why? What do you mean?"

"Your body is at Casterly Rock. Now it is only an empty shell, unconscious and seemingly sleeping. Your mind, however...". Her foreign, melodic voice trailed off and she gave him a concerned look.

"What is with my mind? _What _has he done to me?" Harry wanted to know, his voice growing louder with every word now, his hands tightening into fists.

"It's magic of the Dark Arts, Harry. Very old and very powerful. The one who must not be named has imprisoned you within your own mind. And I fear you can't leave this place. _Not_ on your own." She added, narrowing her eyes.

"But you found me here." Harry reminded her. "You can help me, can't you? Your magical powers are stronger than his. You've said so yourself."

"My powers are not sufficient enough to break this magical seal. Not _yet_." Her crimson eyes gleamed now, like the red lava sea inside a volcano. "I have told you before, my magic requires a sacrifice to become more powerful. The greater the sacrifice, the greater is the power I shall wield. Do you understand this, Harry?"

Harry remembered what Tyrion had told him and nodded slowly. "The tale of Azor Ahai. He chose to sacrifice his wife to forge his sword Lightbringer."

Melisandre seemed somewhat pleased. "Yes, you remember the prophecy, very good."

"So, what is the meaning of this? Do you sacrifice something or someone and then," Harry clipped his finger,"you become stronger?"

"No, this is not the way it works. It is _not_ me. I am merely a priestess, a voice that conveys R'hllor's words, his will. I am nothing but a vessel, a weapon which obtains and harbours the strength of light. But you are the Chosen One. It must be _you_ who gives a sacrifice to the God of Flame." The red priestess made clear.

"_Me_?" For a moment Harry felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under him. His mouth was dry like a desert. He didn't want to know, already fearing her answer. This sorceress might demand the life of his godfather Sirius Black or the lives of his two best friends Ron and Hermione.

"And who or what should I sacrifice?" The young boy asked her reluctantly, feeling a lump in his throat.

She slid closer to him, an ominous shadow in red. The unsavoury scents of scorched earth, smoke and fire were in the air now. "The _greatest _sacrifice is required, Harry. Think about it. Who is the greatest sorcerer this world has ever seen?"

Harry swallowed, thinking. "The greatest sorcerer..." Suddenly his emerald eyes flashed at her, the realization slowly sinking in who she was referring to.

His own voice sounded hoarse in his ears now, as he blurted it out loud. "You're talking about Professor Albus Dumbledore. You want me to sacrifice _Dumbledore_?"

"To stand a chance against the darkness that surrounds us, yes. Only _he_ can increase my magical powers." Melisandre explained.

"But... but there must be another way. I can't sacrifice Professor Dumbledore. He's my friend, my mentor. If one wizard is able to defeat Voldemort, it's him. He's the only one Voldemort fears. I can't offer what you ask for. It's out of the question." Harry said quickly, shaking his head and feeling his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

"To sacrifice someone you love, someone very special and dear to you, yes, I know it must be hard, Harry. But that is the reason why you call it sacrifice. You can't just sacrifice any flesh and blood. It won't do. Albus Dumbledore is the only acceptable, the only logical choice. In the end, it is you who has to choose. But no matter how long you wait or think about your final decision, it won't get any easier."

"And what if I choose to sacrifice _no one_?" Harry asked her in a stubborn tone, clenching his jaw.

Her red eyes turned to thin slits. "If you can't make an offering, I will not receive the powers I need to chase away the darkness. And believe me, even if someone manages to get you out of this prison by any chance, what will happen next? Voldemort still exists and the cold darkness is still looming over us, threatening to cover our whole world. Everyone you love and cherish will cease to exist. Your sacrifice pales in comparison to all the lives you could safe, can't you see it, young one?"

"No, I can't. Maybe you're right and maybe I'm wrong. But I'd rather take my chances. I will try everything in my power to defeat Voldemort myself. I'd be even willing to give my own life to kill him. But I'll never risk my friend's life. I could never look at myself in the mirror again. How could I go on and live my life after that? I can't do this."

The red ruby of her necklace was glistening and throbbing slowly as she tried to convince him. "The flames do not lie, Harry. I assure you, you _will _sacrifice Albus Dumbledore. Nothing can change that and from now on it is only a matter of time until you realize this yourself, that you have no other choice. If you reach a decision now or later, whatever happens, the end result will always be the same. The gears of fate have been set in motion, my friend. And the only thing we both can do now is accept our destiny, our future. Like our great hero Azor Ahai, who accepted the truth, to give his beloved wife's life to forge his magical sword."

"You once told me, the future is not set in stone, my lady. We can always change it if we want to. And you seem to forget, I'm not Azor Ahai, Lord Stannis Baratheon is the Prince that was promised. He should be the one to offer a sacrifice, not me." Harry reminded her, not wanting to believe her divination although she seemed very certain that everything would transpire exactly the same way she had foreseen it.

"At one point we all have to make an offering, regardless if you're the Chosen One or not. Lord Stannis knows what has to be done, he knows he can't turn back and that he can only move forward now. Not once did this brave man falter. He is ready and willing to offer a sacrifice to R'hllor. His lordship has accepted his destiny, this heavy burden only he can carry alone. And it won't be long now, Harry. _You_ will realize this too."

The young wizard didn't believe it, he couldn't believe it. He'd never let Dumbledore die, not for him. No one should die for him.

Melisandre saw doubt in his eyes and went on. "You don't believe me and I can't convince you, just as I have foreseen it. Take your time then, think about it. I won't push you, Harry. But if this day ever comes when you finally accept your future, when this moment arrives when you finally embrace your destiny, call me. I promise I'll be there and together we shall vanquish the darkness, once and for all."

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They had brought Jaime Lannister deep inside the bowels of the castle. The Death Eaters had led him down a long, spiralling staircase, descending for so long that Jaime thought they were nearing the underground caves of Casterly Rock, until they had reached a jail cell.

A lattice of thick iron bars had been lifted to let him enter the room. The chamber wasn't exactly what one might call a common prison cell. It was large and seemed rather comfortable. There were raised dais with several beds on it for sleeping. At the corner stood a single washbasin, through which fresh water flowed in a constant stream. There was also other furniture as well, a dinner table, some chairs, several bookshelves, a huge wardrobe and a cushy couch. Even warm sunlight shone through the vaulted ceiling, high above his head. Jaime knew he had to thank his father Tywin for this kind treatment. Lannister cells weren't really known to be pleasing or comfortable at all. After his stay at Malfoy Manor's cellar he wasn't used to this unusual luxury.

Jaime had taken his time to wash himself thoroughly and was glad he could finally shave his beard and change into freshly laundered clothing. Unfortunately, not everything was for his best satisfaction. After Bellatrix Lestrange's death the Dark Lord had picked a new torturer and watchdog to keep his company. It was the Death Eater named Peter Pettigrew, yet most of his shady comrades addressed him as Wormtail. Unlike Lestrange the short man with the watery eyes didn't offer a beautiful sight. He was chubby, unkempt and the man's round face reminded Jaime of a rat, his front teeth standing out, very similar to rat's teeth. After this discovery he had made it a habit to label him 'Ratface'.

His new companion didn't seem very fond of his new nickname but he didn't complain. Instead he chose to punish him by casting the Cruciatus Curse upon him. Thankfully Ratface wasn't as skilled as the Lestrange woman, he always performed very poorly. The pain only lasted a few minutes and it didn't have the usual excruciating effects.

Days went by and he soon got accustomed to a diurnal rhythm. Wormtail would arrive and wake him early in the morning with a little dose of the torture curse, followed by breakfast. In the next hours Jaime would usually spend his time taking a shower and reading a book and then it would be time for lunch. The afternoon was reserved for further torture activities and in the evening he would get dinner and read something again before going to bed. After a while it all became very tedious. He had no one to talk to and Ratface was anything but a chatty person. It was no fun to mock someone who didn't react and kept silent most of the time. But what troubled him the most was this feeling to be left in the dark about everything that happened outside. Where was his sister Cersei? Was she safe? And what about father and his brother Tyrion? Should he fear for them? Were they in danger? This uncertainty wore him down little by little, not knowing what took place outside these walls.

So it had been quite a surprise as they had thrown other prisoners into his cell. They were two young boys. One was unconscious or perhaps asleep the whole time and the other one took a seat without saying a word, giving him a cautious glance.

The boy sitting there was a redhead, still very young, maybe sixteen years old, Jaime guessed.

"Wonderful, I have company. You know it's very rude not to introduce yourself, don't you?" asked Jaime in a cold tone.

His new friend chewed on his bottom lip. "You're... you're the Kingslayer, right?"

"I am Jaime Lannister, boy. And I've grown tired of people like you, calling me Kingslayer, oathbreaker or other adorable nicknames."

"Sorry, ser." The boy mumbled, quickly averting his blue eyes.

Jaime knew he sometimes had the habit to intimidate others, his behaviour was especially hostile and arrogant towards strangers who didn't belong to the Lannister family. Maybe his tone had been a bit harsh, he reflected. It wasn't beneficial at all acting like that These two boys were his comrades now, they should learn to stick together, after all they were all sitting in the same boat.

He cleared his throat and addressed the lad again. "Look, I apologize if I've sounded rude somehow. It seems my undesired stay here is slowly getting on my nerves."

The other boy looked up, nodding silently and Jaime gave him a disarming smile. "So, shall we start all over again? I'm Jaime Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister, former member of the Kingsguard. And yes, they also call me Kingslayer because I've killed the king I had sworn to protect. And no, I don't feel guilty about it and I don't regret my evil deed. On the contrary, I believe this world is a better place without a mad king who had this strange obsession, hurting people and watching them burn. But enough about me. I'm dying to know, with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

The redhead smiled uneasily. "I'm Ronald Bilius Weasley, er, son of Arthur and Molly Weasley. And the boy over there is my friend Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter." Jaime followed his gaze to the sleeping body and returned to Ronald Weasley again.

"You're Tyrion's brother, right?" The Weasley boy asked him, curiosity in his hoarse voice.

He was probably wondering why he and Tyrion both seemed so different appearance wise, although they were related. Unfortunately his little brother hadn't inherited the good looks of his family like his two older siblings. Yet, it didn't matter to Jaime. He loved his younger brother, regardless what others might say or think about him.

"So you're acquainted with Tyrion? The world is very small, isn't it?" said Jaime in an amused tone and regarded Harry Potter, lying motionless on the bed with his eyes closed. It was hard to believe this little, skinny brat was the Chosen One.

Potter was too young and he didn't have an commanding aura around him like his father Tywin Lannister, or Lord Voldemort. He was a mere boy. There was nothing special about him. But still, it was only his first impression and maybe Potter would prove him wrong one day. Perhaps he really was the Chosen One, the only one who was destined to kill the snake lord.

Jaime gave him a searching look "What happened to your friend? Is he a late riser? Don't you want to wake him?"

"I tried many times but Harry won't wake up. I'm not really sure but I guess it must be one of You-Know-Who's spells. I can't think of any other plausible explanation and honestly, this is something the Dark Lord would do, to make sure Harry can't escape."

Jaime grimaced. "Well, it wasn't a wise move to come here in the first place if you ask me. I wonder, though, please enlighten me, what were you two doing at Casterly Rock? What did you hope to accomplish?"

Weasley paused for a long moment, narrowing his eyes. He then looked up again, muttering in a low tone. "We have tried to snatch Gregor Clegane..."

The boy stopped abruptly as he saw Jaime bursting out in laughter. "Trying to _snatch the Mountain_?" He chuckled, arms folded over his chest and thinking it was just too damn funny. "Gods, you guys must be crazy. Crazy or bold. I have yet to decide which one it is."

"It was Harry's idea, not mine." Weasley grumbled, his freckled face showing an embarrassed expression. "But it doesn't matter. You-Know-Who captured us and I only hope the others were able to escape."

"The others?" Jaime raised an eyebrow. _Oh, now it's becoming interesting..._

He nodded. "Yes, my friend Hermione, your brother Tyrion and his mercenary friend, Bronn."

"If my brother is with your friend, you shouldn't worry. Tyrion is clever and he knows this castle like the back of his hand." Jaime assured him, raising his hopes. And maybe there was hope for him too. Tyrion would never leave them in this cell. He was a Lannister and he wouldn't hesitate helping his brother. As children they have all learned their family ranked above everything else, it had the highest priority and Jaime was certain Tyrion would remember that lesson.

The next hours flew by and the boy's initial wariness towards him slowly dissipated. Weasley started to warm up to him, telling him all about his family, his home at the Burrows and his life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The boy didn't seem to stop, talking his head off.

Under different circumstances this flood of words might have bothered him or give him headaches, and in return he might have gagged him or worse. But not this time. Words were not enough to describe how joyful he felt right now, having someone to talk to again, someone to crack him up. Well, the company could have been better, a pretty lady would've been a nice change, yet he didn't care.

As far as he could tell, Ronald Weasley was a good and honest boy. And it was a pleasant surprise he even knew Ratface. As Ron recognized the small man during their torture sessions, he told him Ratface had once been his pet rat Scabbers. The world was indeed very small.

Between meals they often spent their time playing chess together and the Lannister knight was astonished how able this boy actually was. Jaime was used to lose his games against his father Tywin. Now he had to find out that Tywin wasn't the only highly skilled player he knew.

Ron showed a natural talent in strategy and tactics, always thinking many steps ahead of him. Jaime thought the young boy could become a talented strategist himself one day, with the right training and the right teacher.

Late in the evening the cells were opened again and for one moment he hoped Tyrion and the others had finally arrived to break them out. However, everything turned out quite differently as he had expected and he quickly abandoned hope as the ones who were supposed to rescue them had been caught too. _The seven gods must love me today_, Jaime thought.

Tyrion, his sellsword Bronn and a young girl were roughly pushed into the cell by a group of Death Eaters.

By the looks of things they had presumably gone through a lot. There were a few bruises and cuts here and there and they all had a very tired and exhausted look in their eyes. Like soldiers who had just returned from a lost battle, their heads and shoulders hanging in defeat.

Tyrion managed giving Jaime a crooked smile. "Beloved brother, so good to see you again. This time I'm afraid you look better than me."

Jaime smirked. "Well, I've always been the pretty one of us, so you shouldn't worry about that. How goes our saying again? There's the pretty one and there's the clever one."

His younger brother laughed at that. "The Lannister brothers. Yeah, I remember that."

The girl standing next to Tyrion probably couldn't fathom how they could laugh at a time like this, she grimaced and shook her head. "I don't think this is the right time to joke around, my lord."

"Oh, please, my lady. Do you really want to spoil our family reunion here?" Tyrion asked her with a grin and she only frowned at that, walking over to the Weasley boy, beginning to talk to him.

"Your new girlfriend, brother?" Jaime asked him, smiling.

Tyrion waddled towards his brother and waved his hand dismissively. "Hermione? She's just a friend of mine. You know how it goes. Most people, especially beautiful ladies, can only tolerate my charming self for a very short period of time."

Jaime chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I, for one, cherish your company, brother. So, why are you here now? Did you miss me?"

"Guess what, we came to rescue you." Tyrion replied in a carefree tone.

Jaime cocked an eyebrow. "_Rescue us_? Good job, brother." He noted dryly.

"I know. You should thank the Spider if you meet him perchance. That slimy bastard betrayed us. I should have killed him when I had the chance." His little brother mumbled with a grim expression on his face.

Jaime frowned. "I think I have often warned you, little brother. Varys is not a man to be trusted."

"I know, I know. But can't you see? I had to take my chances, there had been no other way. I don't mind if you blame me for this failed rescue attempt. But I promise I'll try to do it better next time." Tyrion assured him.

"You still think you can get us out?" asked Jaime, staring at him doubtfully.

Tyrion hopped on a nearby chair with ease, taking a peach in his small hand and grinning. "Of course, dear brother. I may be in a prison cell but that doesn't mean my wits have entirely left me."

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The Dark Lord stood at the windows, his cat-like eyes roaming over the turbulent sea below. The weather had changed drastically during the last few hours. Rain clouds shrouded the grey sky, thunder and lightning were the harbingers of an approaching storm. Sudden flashes of light illuminated his face, casting eerie shadows over his pale, serpentine features.

For a brief moment the dark wizard wondered if this abrupt weather change had a meaning. Was it an omen or a warning, perhaps? Casterly Rock was his newly chosen headquarters but did he feel safe here? His answer would be no. As long as Tywin Lannister lived, he had to proceed very carefully. The head of the Lannister family was known as a cunning and calculating strategist. According to his other reliable sources he was also a very powerful wizard.

It wasn't in Lord Voldemort's nature not to act against this man, not to eliminate such a potential threat. But he couldn't deny the fact that Tywin Lannister could also be a useful ally, in fact be a great asset if he would succeed to subjugate this proud man, forcing him to become his loyal follower. A difficult task admittedly, yet there was nothing he could lose. Voldemort would either rule over the lion or he would destroy him. It was as simple as that. In his mind he had gained a small victory in this regard. Lord Tywin's daughter Cersei was his, his Death Eater and his property. One Lannister lion already belonged to him.

His scarlet eyes wandered and his gaze settled upon a golden lion statue which was positioned at the small meeting chamber's entrance. A silent and proud guardian sat on a high stone pedestal, roaring its defiance. There was a familiar, fiery glance in these cold emerald eyes, much like the fire in Cersei's eyes.

It was strange that his thoughts often revolved around this woman lately. Why did he seek her presence or summoned her to his side? Cersei was just a possession, a plaything, a tool, nothing more. Yet still...

There was something about her that intrigued him, something that sparked his interest. Maybe if he kept her close, he would soon know the reason what allured him.

Was it only his desire to own her, to take care of his newest possession? Unlike Bellatrix she didn't succumb to him immediately. Her submission had been an act, there had been no sign of unquestionable loyalty or faithfulness. Cersei still struggled against his bonds of control, like a rabbit unavailingly trying to escape from the snake's deadly embrace.

_Feeble attempts_, Voldemort thought. No one was able to resist him. Not her, and not her father. Cersei would soon be his and her father would follow and join his cause too, one way or another.

Everything was going according to plan. The Dark Lord would become the ruler of the Wizarding World, establishing and enforcing new laws, creating a flawless and perfect society of pure-blood wizards and witches and finally fighting against their true enemies, all those Mudbloods, blood-traitors and Muggle-lovers out there who dare befoul this world with their sheer existence. He and his followers would cleanse this earth, they would purify it and cut away all the corruption that had spread here like weed over the years.

Voldemort paused his train of thought as he heard a quiet buzzing behind his back. He turned around, his ivory hands absent-mindedly stroking the snake resting across his shoulders. His long fingernails scratched Nagini's chin and his familiar hissed softly, visibly enjoying her master's share of kindness and affection.

The dark wizard was here to converse with his spies Serverus Snape and Varys, to hear their recent reports. Their chosen meeting room was richly furnished, magnificent tapestries hung on the walls, showing scenes of battle, glorious victories of House Lannister. Large red carpets covered the marble floor and a silken, golden tablecloth spread over the mahogany table. The Lannister colours red and gold were clearly dominating here.

Snape sat at the table, his hands neatly folded in his lap and his black, attentive eyes following the movements of the other spy. Varys was walking through the room, holding his wand in his right hand and casting anti-eavesdropping spells.

The bald man probably felt their eyes upon him and turned his head, giving them an apologetic smile. "The walls have eyes and ears, my friends. One must always be careful, some secrets are not meant for other ears."

"I know Lord Tywin's men are watching me closely. It is fairly obvious what this man is scheming. He's a fool who thinks Lord Voldemort wouldn't know... But Lord Voldemort knows, he always knows." The Dark Lord hissed in a menacing tone, Nagini's yellow eyes instantly flashed at both men, obviously sensing her master's displeasure.

Varys seated himself, straightening his expensive dark red robe and smiling knowingly. "It is no secret how Lord Tywin feels about your unexpected arrival and your treatment of his children, my lord. I daresay the head of House Lannister is a resentful man and he hates surprises. You are indeed wise to suspect him."

His newest spy didn't tell him anything new. For a second he felt the sudden impulse to torture this man, to make him realize he only needed useful information. Yes, there was talk amongst the Lannister guards that the old lion was on the move, that he was planning something. But he didn't need gossip. What he needed were the exact plans, the strategy the enemy would utilize against him. And he needed loyal and reliable spies who would provide all the information about his enemies' schemes and plots.

Harry Potter's inescapable death was drawing near now, he could feel it in his bones. But that didn't mean his victory was secure. Not as long as Albus Dumbledore was alive. The old man was still a thorn in his side and his pathetic Order of the Phoenix was still opposing him, fighting against the inevitable outcome of this war. They were just an unorganized lot who didn't even have the slightest idea with whom they truly dealt with and how far his Death Eaters have infiltrated the Ministry of Magic. These idiots would soon have a rude awakening, he would see to that.

Varys went on. "However, Lord Tywin should be of no concern to you. It might surprise you to hear that right now the lion takes great interest in another man, Lord Stannis Baratheon. He fears this Lord might start a war. A war of thrones."

"Stannis Baratheon? Who is this man?" Voldemort asked.

"The Lord of Dragonstone, my lord. They say he is a proven battle commander, and he is utterly without mercy. Lord Stannis intends to proclaim himself king and you should know, just a few days ago he announced to kill you too." Varys said.

Voldemort gave him a curious look. "Kill me? Why? What kind of fool is this?"

"A fool who believes in justice, a fool who believes you have no right whatsoever to claim the rule over the Wizarding World. Be careful of this one, good lord. There's no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man." Varys warned him.

The Dark Lord was silent for a long moment, contemplating the man's warning. His gaze moved between Serverus and Varys, his eyes shining with such intensity that any other Death Eater would immediately avoid these piercing red eyes.

He spoke again, very quietly and composed. "I don't concern myself with the sabre-rattling of one lord. No one threatens Lord Voldemort without suffering the consequences. This man shall feel Lord Voldemort's wrath, no one escapes his punishment."

Varys nodded silently, watching as the Dark Lord turned his attention to his other spy.

"Serverus," Voldemort eyed Snape now, slightly leaning forward over the table to look down at him, "tell me, has Dumbledore finally made his move? Surely he must have noticed Potter's absence, did he not?"

The dark-haired man didn't move, his face showing an impassive mask. "Dumbledore believes you have the boy, my lord. He has instructed the Order to search for him and his two friends."

Voldemort's lipless mouth curled into a smile. "Ah, but they won't find him. The Order doesn't know his whereabouts, they don't even have a clue."

The other man smiled. "The Order thinks you have hidden him inside Malfoy Manor and Sirius Black intends to lead an attack tomorrow, early in the morning."

There was a mischievous glint in his red eyes as he glided closer to the table. "Good, let them come then. My Death Eaters shall give them a befitting reception and they shall take down as many of them as they can."

"Shall I go and give the command to Lucius Malfoy and the others, my lord?" Snape asked, already getting up from his chair.

"Yes, they shall make all necessary arrangements and prepare themselves for the upcoming battle." Voldemort ordered in a calm tone.

"Very well, it will be done, my lord." said the potions teacher, giving him a curt bow and quickly leaving the room, the wooden door softly closing shut behind him.

Voldemort tilted his head to the side and studied his other spy now, stroking Nagini's snout fondly. "Serverus has been very valuable to me all these years. He is the only reliable source within Hogwarts who offers me every tiny bit of information concerning Albus Dumbledore. And once again he has served me well."

His tone was musing and thoughtful as his crimson eyes regarded Varys. "You told me, you possess much more valuable information than Serverus. I think it is time to show me what you have to offer."

This was the perfect situation. He had two able spies and both would do anything to win his favour, seeking his approval. Their rivalry would push them to their limits and the one who would benefit from this competition would be him. It was an ideal setting.

Varys smiled, pouring red wine in his glass and taking a sip. "Of course, my lord. Your time is precious, I know, I promise I shall not keep you long."

The man's usual soft voice sank to a deeper, more sharp tone. "Your loyal servant has been right about the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore is searching for Harry Potter, yes. But all his endeavours not only pertain to the boy. Oh no, our favoured sorcerer has found a new preoccupation which consumes his time completely."

Voldemort grew impatient and hissed threateningly. "Don't test my patience, Varys. What is the old man up to? Out with it!"

Varys looked up and stroked his chin with his index finger, answering. "Albus Dumbledore is researching your family's history, my lord. The last few weeks he has often visited Little Hangleton, investigating Riddle Manor and the Gaunt shack thoroughly. My birds saw him speaking to Muggle neighbours, asking them specific questions about both families and the untimely demise of their members. He has also collected several of their memories for his Pensieve. I fear, he is close to finding the truth."

Varys leaned forward and stared into his red eyes, holding a hand over his mouth as though he were sharing a secret. There was a hardness to his voice, his every word a blade. "It is only a matter of time now, my lord, until he finds your hidden _Horcrux_, Marvolo Gaunt's signet ring."

The Dark Lord stood in front of the table, unmoving like a statue made of ice. His eyes were fixed on the other man and he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. The old bastard knew about his Horcruxes! But how on earth could he gain such crucial information? Was it Horace Slughorn? Did he tell Dumbledore about his secret? If there was a leak somewhere he had to find and close it quickly. There was no time to waste. But most importantly he had to retrieve all his remaining Horcruxes. He would never allow letting them fall into enemy hands, specifically if this one enemy turned out to be Albus Dumbledore, the most dangerous wizard of them all.

"How do you _know_ about my Horcruxes, Varys?" Voldemort wanted to know, a dangerous glint in his crimson eyes, feeling his anger rise inside him.

Varys gave him a secret smile. "I am the Master of Whisperers and my birds are everywhere, my lord. They whisper to me, telling me the strangest stories. But you shouldn't worry. I assure you, I serve only you and you alone. Your secrets are safe with me."

The Dark Lord strode around the table towards Varys, his serpent hissing furiously at his shoulder. His red eyes stared into his, probing his thoughts and feelings, using his Legilimency to delve into his mind but his efforts were without success. Voldemort encountered a barrier, sealing the other man's mind against intrusion.

_I see, he's a skilled Occlumens. I can't detect if he's lying or not._ Voldemort thought and lowered his cold voice dangerously. "I must confess I have underestimated you, Varys. You know too much and you pose a far greater threat than I initially thought you might be."

His head tilted sideways and his cat-like eyes studied the spy like a curious scientist would observe an unknown animal. "Who are you, Varys? Which role are you truly playing?"

"They call me many names, good lord. A spider, an informer, a eunuch...," Varys sighed and continued. "We all have our roles to play, do we not? The Master of Whisperers has no honour and no scruples and it saddens me to say, a spy is seldom loved. But there is one thing I can assure you: I am your loyal servant and you will need my aid in these unstable and uncertain times. Wouldn't it be such a waste to kill me now? To lose such a valuable source? It is obvious that Serverus Snape is only Dumbledore's pawn. Oh yes, he receives all the information. But it is only information Dumbledore _allows_ him to share, nothing more and nothing less. I, however, can provide everything you want to know. Knowledge is power, is it not? With my assistance you shall be the one who will hold the upper hand, you will be able to counter your enemies' moves beforehand and will always be a step ahead of them." Varys suggested convincingly, swirling the red wine in his glass.

Voldemort knew he was right. Could he afford to lose such a valuable servant? Without this man's help he would have never known how close Dumbledore really was to discover a way to end his life, to destroy his Horcruxes who represented his path to immortality. No, he couldn't kill Varys. This man was too valuable, too important to him. He knew secrets, beyond a doubt.

"I cannot deny your usefulness, Varys, and thus I have decided you shall continue to serve me. Lord Voldemort remembers and rewards those who are loyal to him, particularly those who serve him faithfully." Voldemort spoke softly, his pale hand resting on the coiling body of his green serpent.

The other man bowed his head deeply. "Thank you, my lord. Your trust shall not be misplaced, you won't regret your decision."

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Lacking anything better to do, Tyrion spent much of his time walking around the cell, thinking of a way to get them out of here. He was restless and couldn't sit still. The little Lannister lord had no idea what he should do, wasting his time as an idle prisoner and feeling the pressure of their situation more and more with each passing hour. Soon the Dark Lord would arrive to kill Harry, there was no doubt about it. Tyrion had promised to help the boy. He couldn't let him die here. Not like this, facing death in this vulnerable state.

The only positive he could think of was that they were all together and not separated. Bronn was snoring loudly, taking a nap on the bed, his brother Jaime and Ron were absorbed in playing a game of chess and Hermione treated the cut wounds on her arms.

Tyrion approached her, seemingly concerned. "Does it hurt?"

"Not so much. This soothing ointment relieves the pain." She explained, carefully putting a bandage around her arm.

The small man lowered his mismatched eyes. "I'm sorry, Hermione. It's all my fault. If I had known what Varys had been up to, all this wouldn't have happened."

"You shouldn't blame yourself. You did everything you could to save us." The young witch squeezed his shoulder lightly, giving him an encouraging smile. "Just look at us, my lord. At least we're still alive. I'm sure we all get out of here soon. The Order will save us, or maybe your squire, Podrick Payne."

Pod... He had forgotten the boy and recalled how Varys had begged Voldemort to spare him, explaining that he had nothing to do with the rescue attempt, that Podrick was an unfortunate lad, being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, it seemed even Varys had a heart and it wasn't a ravaged wasteland as he had feared. Tyrion hadn't expected this, certainly not from Varys. Once again it became clear to him he didn't understand the spymaster, neither his intentions, nor his motivations.

Tyrion looked up at her, murmuring. "Oh yes, Pod, he can be a real pain sometimes, yet I wouldn't mind if he were my knight in shining armour."

The bushy-haired girl rolled her eyes. "You're never serious, are you, Tyrion?"

Tyrion smirked playfully. "Oh, trust me, I can be _very_ serious, Hermione."

He was tempted to tell her how he felt, that he truly enjoyed her company. In the majority of cases women only stayed with him if he asked them to, paying money for their attention or affection. That is how it has always been. However, Hermione was an exception, she regarded him as a good friend, not minding his small stature or the fact that he was a member of House Lannister.

"Hermione," he began, looking deeply into her beautiful, chocolate brown eyes and searching for the right words to express his feelings. But unfortunately, he didn't get the chance to go on. Lord Tywin Lannister came into the room with his uncle Kevan following behind him. Another man appeared soon after them, his father's mad dog, Ser Gregor Clegane, dragging Wormtail with him.

They all spun around, facing the four men. His father and uncle wore black cloaks, almost resembling the dark clothing of a Death Eater. Ser Gregor, also known as the Mountain stood before them in his usual heavy plate armour, a giant covered in massive steel. A yellow cape flowed down his back, showing the familiar three black hounds, the sigil of House Clegane. Beside him Hermione shifted in her seat, probably realizing how close the Mountain was, yet still out of reach.

"Father, it's such a joy seeing you here. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" Tyrion asked in a relaxed tone, yet deep down he felt the tension, the way he always did when he had to face his dear father again. From the corner of his eye he noticed Jaime rising up from his chair, a surprised expression on his face.

Lord Tywin's gold-flecked eyes studied his brother Jaime intently until his eyes met Tyrion's. "Look at you two, see where you're standing. Lannisters...," His icy voice became as sharp as a whip now and he pointed his finger accusingly at them. "_Lannisters don't act like fools_!"

Jaime winced at his father's sudden outburst and Tyrion swallowed, averting his eyes. "We're sorry to disappoint you, father."

"I don't want to hear any of your excuses. You've brought shame to our House, _both of you_!" His father grunted grimly.

"If you let us out and give us a chance to redeem ourselves..." Tyrion proposed but got cut off, flinching and falling silent immediately as Tywin just glared at him.

"Do you really think I would let you leave, son? That I'd let you walk around out there causing more damage and more trouble? Hmm?" His father gave him a challenging look. "Go on, Tyrion. I want to hear it! Say something clever!"

Tyrion cleared his throat, looking up again. "As matters stand now I suggest consulting Albus Dumbledore, we could bring the Potter boy back to him and ally ourselves with the Order of the Phoenix."

"_Never_! The lion doesn't ally with sheep! Never forget that!" Tywin made clear.

Hermione rose to her feet, a look of determination on her face and her voice sounding calm and reasonable. "But why? Voldemort is our common enemy. Why can't we unite our forces and fight him together?"

Lord Tywin glowered at her. "You don't say a word unless you're spoken to, girl! Who is she anyway? Another one of your _whores_?"

"You..." The young, brown-haired witch gave him an indignant look and Tyrion quickly placed his small hand on her forearm.

He could barely hold back his anger himself as he retorted. "Hermione is my friend, father. But why am I telling you this? You don't know what friendship means, you only think of the honour of our House."

"Silence!" His father took a deep breath, eyeing Hermione. "Your name, girl?"

"Her name is..." His uncle Kevan stepped forward, wanting to introduce her but Tywin held up a hand, calmly repeating his question. "_Your name_?"

She met his gaze unflinchingly and didn't back down. "Hermione Jean Granger, my lord."

He arched an eyebrow. "Granger..., is it a Muggle-name?"

"I'm a Muggle-born witch, my lord. And neither do I deny nor do I regret my parentage."

"She has guts, son, I give her that." Tywin acknowledged, turning to the other boy.

"And you are?"

Weasley's hands nervously fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket, his voice trembling as he answered. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, my lord."

"Weasley? I see." His green-gold eyes glistened as they moved to the sleeping body of Harry Potter.

"And this one must be the so-called Chosen One." He concluded, crossing the room to get to him and paused, watching Hermione hurrying to her friend's side, blocking Lord Tywin's path.

"Get out of my way!" His lord father seized Hermione by the collar of her grey cardigan and threw her to the ground.

"_Don't hurt him_!" She breathed but Tywin ignored her as if she weren't there, bending over the young boy's unconscious body and placing a hand on Harry's forehead, his eyes closed in concentration.

"It's a very powerful sleeping charm." Tywin muttered, opening his eyes again and glancing at Kevan Lannister. "Voldemort must truly fear this boy."

The other man nodded gravely and Jaime gave his father a questioning look. "What will happen to him?"

Lord Tywin shrugged. "The boy will die of course."

"You won't help Harry, my lord? You'd let You-Know-Who enter this cell and allow him to kill Harry? Without any resistance?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening in disbelief and Ron gaping at him in shock simultaneously.

_Lord Tywin Lannister, his heart is as cold as all the gold of Casterly Rock._ Tyrion thought bitterly.

"The boy means nothing to me. I don't need a Chosen One to defeat the snake. Only fools place their trust in a_ little boy_." Lord Tywin said in an emotionless tone.

"That _little boy_, dear father, has survived a killing curse. Isn't it obvious? Harry James Potter is special and that is the reason why our Dark Lord couldn't kill him, or should I say failed to kill him." Tyrion reminded his father.

"If this boy has survived every single attack on his life thus far, then he'll surely be able to miraculously survive another killing curse, don't you agree, Tyrion?" His father asked coldly, giving him a look that silenced any further argument.

"Enough of this. Potter is of no concern to me. There are more important matters that need to be discussed." Tywin addressed Jaime now, gold flecks shining in his pale green eyes. "What kind of madness possessed you to sneak into Malfoy Manor, Jaime?"

Jaime smiled weakly. "No madness, father. I wanted to free my sister, that was all."

Lord Tywin snarled. "And Voldemort? Why is the snake still alive? If you start a fight, you should at least have the strength to finish it."

"I couldn't finish the fight, Cersei's life was at stake, I just couldn't..." Jaime Lannister shook his head, his shoulders sinking.

His father sighed. "One day your foolishness and recklessness will cost you your life. The next time you engage in a battle you should keep that in mind."

Jaime raised his eyebrows. "The _next_ time?"

"I will give you half of my men, Kevan and Ser Gregor shall accompany you as well."

"To fight whom?" Jaime asked.

Lord Tywin stared at him. "_Death Eaters_. I can't attack Voldemort in the open, not now. Stannis Baratheon may spark a war and it would be unwise to fight a war on two fronts. But I won't stand idly by either, we have to diminish his army's numbers by raiding his forces. Soon he'll be outnumbered and he'll be at an disadvantage and that will be the moment when we'll crush the snake at one final blow."

"Sounds like a simple strategy." Jaime remarked.

"Simple, indeed, yet very effective. The Dark Lord will think you've escaped and that you plan to take vengeance on him by killing his men. Of course I will deny any involvement which will give me additional time to deal with Lord Stannis." Lord Tywin explained calmly.

Tyrion cocked his head. "And what about me? Are you sending me to war too, father?"

"You will stay here with your friends, son. Until I decide what to do with you."

"Great. Oh well, I suppose I should be grateful that I'm here and not at the Wall." Tyrion commented dryly.

His lord father's mouth tightened. "Hold your tongue! I've been going easy on you, Tyrion, you should pray and thank the gods I still tolerate your presence here."

The dwarf gave him a lopsided grin. "Trust me, I've tried praying to the seven but sadly, they won't answer my prayers. Look at me, I haven't grown any taller."

Tywin glared at him and chose to remain silent, knowing this could go on forever. Uncle Kevan cleared his throat and waved a hand at his nephew. "We should go now, Jaime. Before other Death Eaters arrive."

"Yes, yes. But first there is something I need to do." Jaime said, holding out his hand. "A sword and a dagger, please."

His uncle and Tywin exchanged wary glances and Kevan finally nodded, undoing the sword and dagger from his waist and handing both weapons over to Jaime.

Jaime weighed them in his hands and ordered Gregor Clegane to release Wormtail.

"Here!" He threw Kevan's sword at his feet and the Death Eater hastily gripped the sword, clutching it awkwardly in his hands.

"Have you lost your mind?" Lord Tywin asked and Tyrion wondered himself what Jaime's intention was.

Jaime smiled languidly, balancing the dagger in his hand. "Me and Ratface here have a score to settle and a Lannister always pays his debts. Am I right, father? I'm even willing to grant him a chance to defend himself. No one should claim the Kingslayer fights without honour."

"_Honour_?" Tywin snorted, giving his older son a disapproving look but Jaime didn't seem to care.

In the blink of an eye, Jaime stepped forward and at the same time the Death Eater raised his own sword, swinging it down in one swift motion.

Everyone in the prison cell held their breath as Jaime moved sideways, dodging Wormtail's clumsy attack. It was obvious his opponent wasn't used to fighting with a sword as his brother disarmed him easily, the blade dropping to the stone floor with a hard, heavy clang.

"_Please, don't kill me_! _Have mercy_!" Wormtail begged, his watery eyes staring at the tip of the dagger which was just grazing the hollow of his throat.

"My lord father told me I should finish my battles." And with that Jaime slashed his throat, a foam of blood spurting from Wormtail's gaping mouth, his body slowly sinking into a red pool of his own blood, empty eyes staring upward at the ceiling.

_It's over. _Tyrion thought, relieved. Suddenly he heard Ron Weasley scream, his eyes widened in shock as Wormtail's silver hand was moving on its own although the body was dead. It had to be some kind of dark magic. Metallic claws tightened around his brother's neck, strangling him.

Jaime gasped for air, a pained expression contorting his features. Tyrion could hear him croak weakly. "Someone... help me..."


	14. Changing the strategy

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

_Author's Note: Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait. Work had been too much again and I never had the time to write. But I don't want to abandon this story, it's just too much fun doing this crossover. ;)_

_ Sonia605: Hey, you're back, hope your job-hunting and school go well. ;) Yes, it will be interesting to see what Varys and Mel are trying to achieve here and I like Jaime too, especially in the books when he's together with Brienne. From here on out, things will get crazy, next chapter the Stark kids arrive at Casterly Rock and we'll meet Roose Bolton, so I hope you guys all enjoy the ride. Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing this, it's more than appreciated.:)_

The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 13: Changing the strategy~

Jaime choked. Every single breath he took was laboured but he refused to give up, even as he felt those ice cold metal fingers sinking deeper into his flesh.

_It's ridiculous_, Jaime thought and he would've laughed if it had been possible. Just at the mere thought, being here in this miserable place and dying a pathetic death like that. That wasn't the way a true lion perished. He, Jaime Lannister, the one known as the kingslayer, a former knight of the legendary kingsguard, a warrior who feared nothing, not even death itself... was about to be killed by the hand of a dead rat.

There had always been this image stuck in his mind, that he was destined to die a hero's death, with his sword Oathkeeper in his right hand, storming the fields of battle, taking down and killing as many enemies as he could. But seven gods, this wasn't glorious at all. _This_... this was just laughable. Unworthy and unthinkable.

With his last ounce of strength he struggled to survive, he wouldn't go down, not now and certainly not in this manner. There were still things left to do, and there were still people out there who needed him. Especially his sister Cersei and his brother Tyrion. He loved them both and he couldn't die when they needed him most. This wasn't his time to knock at the seven gates of hell.

The world around him became blurry. He barely registered when strong hands grabbed the silver hand, trying to tear it away from his throat. Judging by the size and inhuman strength, it had to be Gregor Clegane. This tall man possessed the brute force of a bear. However, his efforts were fruitless, the iron grip didn't weaken, not a jot.

Screams were all around him, someone was coming closer but his green eyes were glued to the shining metal, that damned object of his impending doom, unable or not wanting to see anything else.

"Aresto Momentum!" A deep voice yelled, the movement of the claws gradually slowing down.

"Evanesco!" Someone else screamed, the young voice sounding very shrill and nervous in his ears. It was unbelievable, that transfiguration spell seemed to be effective. Jaime watched in bewilderment as Wormtail's hand dissolved into thin air, the magic only leaving the arm stump behind.

His legs felt weak and wobbly like jelly. The man's knees buckled and he finally collapsed, falling to the floor and coughing heavily. The darkness in his vision slowly dissipated and precious air filled his lungs again. Jaime closed his eyes and took a long deep breath, trying to shake off the dizziness.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he recognized the concerned tone of his little brother Tyrion speaking to him. "Big brother, are you all right? Are you in pain? Gods be good, you're alive. For a moment you had me really worried there, I hope you're not trying to do this again, I still need you. Well, Cersei needs you too. You know our beloved sister would strangle me to death or cut off my little head if something happened to you."

Jaime tried to smile, sounding very exhausted as he answered hoarsely. "I'm fine, I'm fine. You need more than a bloody hand to kill the mighty kingslayer."

Tyrion laughed and patted his shoulder. "Well, we Lannisters are hard to kill. Everyone knows that."

He was still trying to catch his breath but unfortunately, his lord father didn't allow him to get some time to rest. Lord Tywin's usual calm demeanour was gone, replaced by a sudden fury as he shouted at his son. "You young fool! Have you lost your mind? Do you want to die so badly? _Answer me_!"

Slowly, Jaime opened his eyes again. His eyelids were still heavy, and for a moment, all he could see were black, blurry shapes. He tried to get up with Tyrion's assistance, feeling the floor swaying beneath him. "Calm down, father. Nothing happened, your beloved son still lives to bring glory to the Lannister name."

"That's not what I meant." Tywin snarled, his body trembling with anger. "Which kind of madness overcame you to duel the snake's minion? I once believed only Tyrion was the one who had the tendency to fool around. But now it seems I have to reconsider my early assessment."

Jaime shrugged leisurely, not really listening to his father's rant and commenting in a dry tone. "Well, I guess it must be a family trait then."

Full of curiosity he looked around, searching. "I'm really curious, please enlighten me, who is my marvellous saviour? Who do I have to thank for saving my life?"

There was a strange silence in the prison cell, all eyes were instantly turning to the young Weasley boy. Jaime could see him clearly now. Ronald gave him a shy smile, obviously feeling uncomfortable being the centre of everyone's attention.

"Hey." The red-haired boy waved a hand. "Glad you're alive, er...ser."

The Lannister knight nodded, smiling back. "Yes, thanks to you."

Ronald scratched his head, the colour of his cheeks reddening. "It was nothing. I was just lucky that my spell actually worked, that's all."

His friend Hermione glanced at him sideways, her brown eyes full of admiration. "Lucky? That wasn't luck, Ron, it was a stroke of genius."

Jaime's face turned to a solemn expression. "Your friend is right, don't be modest. You're a gifted young wizard and I owe you my life, Ronald Bilius Weasley." The boy smiled in return, obviously being at a loss for words.

Feeling better again Jaime decided it was time to face his father one more time, so he shuffled in his direction, with his hand leaning on Tyrion's shoulder. "Father, I will do as you asked and go to war for you if I have to."

"Good, I expect you fare better in your upcoming battles and duties as commander than in that needless duel, son. Everyone knows a knight is nothing without his sword. Therefore I shall return your sword to you. Don't lose it again, Lucius Malfoy had to take quite a risk to retrieve it for us."

His father nodded at his brother Kevan who stepped forward and reeled off a dark cloth, revealing the familiar shining red glow of his blade Oathkeeper.

Jaime took the longsword in his hands, testing its grip. It felt like his long-lost love had finally found her way back to him. Such a fine blade didn't belong in Voldemort's filthy hands, he thought. It would only be wasted and get dusty in the snake's treasury.

Although he was grateful for Tywin's gift, it wasn't enough. He had another request. In his eyes this matter wasn't even a request, it was something that should be taken for granted. However, he was sure his lord father would see this differently than him. "I gladly accept this gift and I will fight your battles and shower our House with glory... but allow me one thing. Give me permission to take young Weasley with me."

Lord Tywin glared at him, the golden dots in his eyes shining in the dim torchlight. "_This boy_? What do you want with him?"

Jaime pointed at Ron and stated. "I have a _great_ debt to pay."

"That boy would just be a hindrance, an unnecessary burden, you can't take him with you."

"I _can_. And I _will_." Jaime made clear in an unwavering tone, ignoring his father's cold stare.

Lord Tywin kept silent, folding his arms over his chest and giving him an irritated look. Without further discussions Jaime laid his hand gently on Ron's back and pushed him toward the cell door. For a moment, Weasley stood there with an open mouth, exchanging glances with Hermione and Tyrion who only nodded in response.

The blond knight gave his little brother one last glance, as if having a gut feeling this might be the last time he'd see him alive again. "Farewell, little brother. Take care and don't get yourself killed."

Tyrion smirked, a hint of sadness in his voice as he replied. "Are you jesting? I should be the one to say that."

"Don't worry about me. We Lannisters do have a perseverance. Our enemies can torture us, hurt us, break us, or they can even try to kill us, over and over again but we are persistent. In the end we'll always come back. Isn't that so?" Jaime asked him, trying to show his usual confidence and boldness although he had barely escaped death a few minutes ago.

"I won't argue that point, brother. Just promise me not putting this theory of yours to the test when you're out there on the battlefield, fighting against Death Eaters, Dementors, werewolves and other lovable creatures. I'd hate to lose you."

"You won't get rid of me that easily, I promise." Jaime assured him and took young Weasley's arm, leading him outside.

"What about my friends?" Ronald wanted to know but Jaime pushed him again, whispering in his ear. "Don't speak. Or do you want to give my dear father an opportunity to change his mind and call you back?"

"But Harry! And Hermione!" The redhead protested. "You-Know-Who will kill them!"

Jaime shook his head and dragged him up the narrow staircase, hearing his uncle Kevan and Gregor Clegane following behind them. "I'm sorry, Ronald. There's nothing I can do. At least I was able to free you. Next I shall find your wand, escort you to safety and return you to your family. I will protect you, I swear this on my honour as a Lannister."

The lad stared at him. "And my friends? I can't just leave them there like that."

"I'm afraid you have to, you have no other choice. " Jaime explained in a low tone, seeing the pained expression on the boy's freckled face.

"Believe in them. If your friend...," he paused, regarding him sympathetically and continued, "If this Harry Potter is truly the Chosen One, they will survive this. I'm sure of it."

"Are you sure? Do _you _believe in him?" Ron asked him, desperately searching for some glimmer of hope he could cling to.

"Truth be told, I _don't _believe in him." Jaime replied bluntly and before Ronald could say anything, he gave him a reassuring smile and said. "However, I do believe your friend Potter may prove me wrong. Only a so-called Chosen One can achieve the impossible and escape death once more."

"I hope you're right." Ron mumbled.

"Of course I am. Your friend only needs a bit of Lannister luck, that's all. So don't worry, you'll see Potter sooner than you think." Jaime squeezed his shoulder and turned his gaze to the exit of the dungeons. In a way that boy was like him. There was also someone he was worried about, all this time his thoughts had never left her.

_Cersei... _

_You'll soon hear reports of my escape and I pray to the seven you haven't forgotten our place. The place only known to us. There we shall meet again, at our secret garden._

_Come to me, I'll be waiting. Come, and they shall never separate us again. _

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_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

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Cersei slid deeper into the water, her back leaning against the marble white shell of her bathtub. This bath felt so wonderful and relaxing, she welcomed the heat that enveloped her entire body. So much had happened recently. Her brother Tyrion had been captured, the Stark daughters would soon arrive at Casterly Rock and she was in the know about her father's plans regarding Lord Stannis Baratheon.

There was so much to think about, the game was becoming larger and more complicated. New players had joined and new pieces had to be considered and moved to different positions but at this very moment all this scheming and careful planning didn't matter anymore. Suddenly everything had changed when father's secret messenger had arrived, reporting on her brother's escape.

During all this time she couldn't shake off this feeling of uncertainty and insecurity, that she was slowly losing control over her situation, or more precisely over herself. It was Lord Voldemort who had such an impact in her life. She knew if she would stay in his presence and be under his influence, she would surely change. Or worse, she would succumb to him although she was trying to resist that snake as best as she could.

That was the reason why the prospect of being together with her twin again filled her with so much joy, and most importantly hope. Once again Jaime could be her anchor, the one she could depend and rely on in these difficult times, or he could be her shoulder to cry on if she needed solace. He was the only one she could trust, the only one she could confide in.

At last she didn't have to worry about his well-being any longer, he was safe for now. And Cersei would be able to meet him soon without fearing any consequences. The Dark Lord would never know. Voldemort's threat returned to mind, what he would do to her or Jaime if she tried to see him again. Yet, she didn't care. She would reunite with Jaime tonight and no force on earth would be powerful enough to keep her away from her other half.

Cersei could barely hide her happiness. She almost felt childish, being excited like a silly little girl, ordering her handmaidens to prepare her bath and to select a collection of her most beautiful gowns and her favourite jewellery.

Her eyes checked the wall clock, it was past midnight. The perfect time to leave the castle without anyone noticing her absence.

_It's time._ Cersei thought and called for her handmaiden. "Senelle, get a towel and my bathrobe!"

Minutes went by and nobody came. The young woman grew impatient, her voice louder and angry now. "_Senelle_! My towel, _now_!"

There was the sound of an opening door and quiet footsteps approaching her. She held out her arm and frowned when a pale hand entered her field of vision, offering her a soft, burgundy-red towel. The water in the bath was still hot, however the heat didn't help her to keep her whole body from shivering.

_Voldemort is here! Why?_ _Does he know about my plans?_ _And if so, what should I do?_ Her thoughts were running wild in her head as she attempted to stay calm and rational. She folded her arms over her breasts intuitively, a rather futile attempt to cover her nakedness in the clear bathwater.

"I've send your handmaiden away, my dear. There are certain things that need to be discussed immediately, surely you don't mind my intrusion into your private chambers." The Dark Lord said softly, sibilantly.

Cersei gulped, only slowly realizing she must have held her breath for a while, because she let it out in a soft hiss at hearing Voldemort's voice so close to her ear.

Clearing her throat, she gave him a thin smile, seemingly acting unaffected by his unexpected presence."I don't mind at all. I am here to serve you at all times, my lord."

"Good." Cersei heard him say behind her and for one split second she feared he was going to choke her as his large hand descended and hovered over her throat, her body automatically tensing in response, being fully aware of her own vulnerability.

"Did you know...", he began in a quiet tone, his fingernails lightly scraping her skin, "that your brother escaped?"

"_Escaped_?" She breathed, arching her eyebrows and trying hard to look genuinely surprised.

"_Tyrion _escaped?"

"The _other_ one, your _twin-brother_, Jaime. Someone killed my servant Wormtail and freed him and the Weasley boy. I wonder, though, why would a person go to such lengths and sneak into your closely-guarded castle, only to rescue these two prisoners? Why not helping Potter and everyone else? Could it possibly be _your_ doing, Cersei? Or your father's? Which one is it?"

She grimaced. "Neither of us. Why should we act against your orders and release our captives? That wouldn't be a clever move, my lord."

"_No_?" He asked, one long fingernail sinking deep into her soft skin that she almost winced in pain.

His probing red eyes stared into hers and the air nearly crackled with tension. "_Who_ was it then?"

"It could be anyone. My brother has many friends and comrades here at the Rock." Cersei guessed, unconsciously clenching her fists and struggling to keep her nervousness at bay.

"Hmm, perhaps you are referring to his so-called _friends_ like your uncle Kevan or that one particular knight... Gregor Clegane, yes? I've heard they both went missing tonight, nobody seems to know where they are, as if they have vanished into thin air." The dark wizard pondered, his hand pulling away from her throat and resting on her shoulder blade now.

Gathering her courage, her head turned around to look at her new master, slightly surprised as she noticed his serpentine face hovering only inches away from Cersei's own. "I don't know if my uncle and Ser Clegane are involved in their escape or not. Believe me, I had no part in this plot and whoever did this shall pay dearly."

"Is that so? Then tell me, why are you here, taking a bath in the middle of the night? Do you want to make yourself pretty and leave me to return to your beloved Jaime?" He asked in a low, threatening tone.

"You have a wild imagination, my lord." She sighed and went on. "No, my son's betrothed will arrive tomorrow morning and as Lord Tywin's daughter it's my duty to arrange a proper welcome ceremony. It will be a busy day so I've decided to get some rest while I still can."

Silence. He watched her with an unreadable expression and his cat-like eyes darkened to a deep red. Maybe her explanation didn't sound very convincing, or maybe he still had his doubts if she had told him the truth or not.

Cersei knew she couldn't draw back now, he needed to believe her that she wouldn't betray him. If not, she'd be in danger and she'd jeopardize the lives of her family as well.

Acting quickly she took his ivory hand in hers and gave it a light kiss, her green eyes never leaving his. "I will never leave you, my lord. You've said it yourself, I am yours. My only place is here, at your side. Nothing will ever change that." She assured him.

"Cersei." Voldemort breathed, his high-pitched voice saying her name almost affectionately as his hand began to stroke her cheek.

"Yesssss, you are _mine_ forever, are you not?" His garnet eyes stared straight into hers, his head tilted a little to one side, his lean fingers brushing possessively over her blond, curly hair.

"I am, my lord." Cersei replied, seeing the satisfaction spread on his face while she couldn't help but feel miserable, affirming his claim over her. Although she knew there had been no other choice than playing the role of his obedient follower. If there was only the slightest suspicion that she would run back to Jaime, he'd kill her without thinking twice. Only one Avada Kedavra curse, just one single bolt of green light and it would all be over. There was no doubt about it.

Maybe the best strategy was to change the subject and distract him. Talking about her twin wasn't very wise, it wouldn't calm his temper. "You've mentioned you wanted to discuss something, my lord."

The Dark Lord gazed at her in abstraction, one finger tracing the side of her face down to her jawline. "Yes." He nodded, his tone quiet and thoughtful again. "I have received interesting information regarding the actions of an old wizard which I can't ignore any longer. I have to readjust my plans to thwart this man who foolishly believes that he discovered the key to my destruction."

He laughed cruelly. "Ridiculous... thinking he could kill me... _me_, Lord Voldemort, the immortal one, the conquerer of death."

"It is folly, yes. So what exactly does this change of strategy entail?"

"It is important to act quickly, time is of the essence and your son and you shall play a crucial role in this strategy."

"_What _do you mean?" Cersei asked, swallowing hard and obviously not liking the idea to involve her son in the serpent's little schemes.

He turned to her, his lipless mouth curving into a smirk. "We will go on a journey, _you and I_. Consider it a part of your special lessons as Lord Voldemort's favoured Death Eater."

Cersei raised an eyebrow. "And my son? Will he accompany us as well?"

"Oh no, your son shall receive another significant task. He shall attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There he shall retrieve a very valuable artifact for me. I've already contacted Lucius' son Draco, he shall be his guide and assist him in his quest."

"_Why my Joffrey_? Why not Malfoy's son?" She wanted to know, not willing to put her son in any sort of danger.

"I know that Dumbledore keeps an eye on Draco and his Slytherin friends. Therefore I need someone in Hogwarts who doesn't arouse suspicion, someone who isn't under strict surveillance and who can act without hindrance."

"I don't know... Joffrey _won't_ like this." Cersei muttered more to herself, already anticipating that her stubborn son would surely protest vehemently against this plan. She knew Joffrey all too well.

"I'm not interested in your son's approval, Cersei. Lord Voldemort offers him a chance to redeem his recent misbehaviour and to show his loyalty to me. If he fails to fulfil his mission or if he denies to serve me, his failure shall result in his death. Do you _understand_?" Voldemort hissed and clenched his fist, the gesture was unmistakable.

"I understand, my lord. Joffrey will accept your generous offer and I swear to you he won't disappoint you."

"Ah, yes, of course he won't. After all he is a Lannister, is he not? I've heard Lord Tywin himself has tutored the boy. I expect a satisfactory performance and especially promising results."

And suddenly, without warning he leaned forward and pressed his flat nose against her warm cheek, inhaling deeply as if to memorize her scent and whispering against her skin. "He'll be Lord Voldemort's faithful servant, just like his mother before him, yes?"

"Yes." Cersei replied flatly, somehow trying to ignore this closeness and intimacy. Why couldn't he just leave her alone, she asked herself. Why did she have to endure this torment?

As if reading her thoughts Voldemort stood up abruptly and looked down on her. "_Get up_!" He ordered in a commanding tone. "I think it's about time that I shall have a closer look at my precious possession."

On one hand Cersei felt relieved that he didn't continue to touch her, yet on the other hand the prospect of standing naked in front of this man wasn't very appealing either.

_I am a lioness and I shall never show any kind of weakness, I will face this challenge head on._ She thought, lifting her chin defiantly and slowly, gracefully stepping out of the bathtub. When she felt his scarlet eyes upon her, feasting on the sight of her naked flesh, she tried to show her pride and confidence, not averting her eyes and resisting the sudden urge to hide herself with her hands.

Time seemed to stand still for a long moment. No one said a word and Cersei was sure she could hear her own heartbeat battering like a drum, getting louder and louder. It was unnerving, standing there in front of him like flesh on display and enduring his penetrating gaze.

"You are truly beautiful, my dear. I shall savour this peculiar moment, this one moment when I shall devour you completely." The Dark Lord announced, his voice a silky hiss and a strange look on his serpentine features, an expression she had never seen on him before and one she couldn't quite decipher either.

Maybe this was her chance to turn the tide in her favour. She could find a way to use his growing obsession with her to her advantage. Manipulation was her greatest weapon. This was her territory, her game. He wouldn't dominate over the lion any longer. Her enemies always realized too late that it was far too dangerous toying around with a lion, she was no plaything. In the end the lion would always bite back, it would be her to hold the reins in her hands, as of now it was only a matter of time.

For now Cersei had her fill of this humiliating treatment and hastily took a bathrobe from a nearby cabinet, sliding the heavy robe over her shoulders to hide her nakedness. All she wanted was to leave this bathroom, getting as far away from this cursed serpent as possible. Unfortunately she didn't get very far, _he_ didn't allow it. Before reaching the doorknob Voldemort rushed at her, his spidery hand forcefully closing around her arm, pulling her towards him..

"Where do you think you're going, Cersei? If I recall I haven't given you permission to leave." His thin mouth hissed, tightening his grip unrelentingly, his lean fingers tracing down her neck as he was eagerly waiting for any kind of reaction.

"As I've told you before, I need time to rest." She replied impassively, giving no hint of being intimidated.

_I wanted to see Jaime, not him. Seven hells, why can't he just let me go?_ Cersei thought and gave up hope. It would be impossible to see her brother tonight because she couldn't leave, even less when she was under suspicion. The stakes were too high.

She felt frustrated, Voldemort had ruined her night and only the gods knew when she'd ever get another chance to be with Jaime again. Perhaps this was the final straw, she was on the verge of doing something rash and could barely control her temper. _Be calm, be calm. Think! If this snake wants to play his games, so be it! He's not the only one who knows how this game is played._

The Dark Lord raised an hairless eyebrow and before he could continue, she put a fingertip on his lips, silencing him. "Please tell me, my lord... do you enjoy this little _game_ we play?" Cersei asked him seductively, coming so close that she could feel his breath on her wet skin.

There was a trace of amusement in his high-pitched voice as he replied. "Oh yes, indeed. I find it highly entertaining."

She bent forward and whispered. "Good, _as do I_. Surely then you have no objections to extend our_ playtime_."

Lord Voldemort didn't miss how she had emphasized the last word, his thin lips curling into a faint smile as he released her arm. "Oh no, my lioness, I have no objections to prolong our _game_."

The woman was taken completely by surprise and her whole body turned rigid when his hands started to travel down her neck now, his caresses going lower and lower while his calm eyes observed her face with the cool patience of a reptile. Cersei felt her nails digging into her palms and tried hard to stand still, not wanting to show him how his touches affected her.

_I am a lion, a daughter of the Rock. That snake has no control over me!_ She screamed in her inner mind, fighting desperately against that burning sensation building inside of her. Her heart-rate accelerated and a tremble was slowly starting to spread through her body.

The Dark Lord seemed to relish the sight of his newest Death Eater writhing in front of him. A strange gleam appeared in his crimson eyes now and suddenly he stopped his movements, his tongue brushing teasingly against her earlobe as he was murmuring darkly against her ear. "On the contrary, it is quite _pleasurable_ watching you struggle, Cersei."

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_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

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.

There were times when Tyrion thought that nothing could surprise him anymore, that he had seen everything in his travels. He now realized how wrong he'd been as he watched this weird situation in front of his mismatched eyes. They were all still down here in this cell but if a Death Eater would've entered this room, they might probably think they were at the wrong place. Tyrion felt like he was attending one of old Lady Tyrell's cozy tea-partys.

A few hours after Jaime and the others had left, Varys had appeared and he had brought the Tyrells with him, well, two Tyrells to be more precise. Lady Margaery took her time to greet everyone, kissing cheekbones and hugging all of them as if they were her best and closest friends. And her brother Loras Tyrell just stood there next to Hermione, dressed in his finest green velvet and showered her with sweet compliments.

The charming knight was like a younger version of his brother Jaime and it annoyed him to no end. It became clear to him the Knight of Flowers was everything he was not. A tall and lithe frame, a young comely man with a tumble of brown locks, blessed with a handsome face and wearing that damned, confident smile of a man who knew the world was his oyster, that he could get everything he wanted, including the most beautiful women this world had to offer. Just seeing him at Hermione's side was too much for him, it was unbearable.

Ser Loras gave her a polite smile, holding her hand in his. "A lovely young lady such as yourself doesn't belong here, withering in this dark dungeon. A beautiful rose should be outside, Hermione, bathing in rays of golden sunlight so that all seven kingdoms may witness her otherworldly beauty."

Oh, he couldn't watch this, Hermione blushed and smiled in return. It was too much.

_It should be me who compliments her, not him!_ He thought, not wanting anyone to notice his displeasure and already fearing that she'd lose her interest in him and having the intention to stay with that stinky rose now.

"Ah, it is truly refreshing to watch the vigour and energy of all these young people, it brings joy to my heart." Varys sighed, standing beside him, dressed in the black, dirty robes of a gaoler.

"So now you're a Tyrell spy, huh? You change your allegiance in a similar manner as other people change their socks." Tyrion remarked dryly.

The Spider looked hurt. "You do me wrong, my lord. My loyalty lies with you and your family, nothing has changed that."

"It's funny hearing you say that, Lord Varys. You of all people, the one who betrayed us just to gain Voldemort's favour. Isn't that so?" The small man asked, giving him an accusing look.

The eunuch licked his lips. "I admit the second part is true. I do not deny that it was my intention to earn the Dark Lord's trust. But I never wanted to betray you, my lord. You see, when the serpent found us, you left me no other choice than to act this way. Look at me, I'm just a spy, an informer, not a warrior. I'm not a fearless knight like your dear brother, brandishing his sword at the first sight of danger. You have to understand I only acted according to your best interests, staying in a position from where I could still offer my assistance to you."

"So you have planned all this, Varys? Contacting the Tyrells to get us out of here?"

The other man nodded. "Of course, my lord. My little birds are also in Highgarden, providing very interesting reports. You should know, the Queen of Thorns was very concerned about Harry Potter's safety, after all he is betrothed to Lady Margaery. It would be such a tragedy to part such a young, blossoming love, do you not agree?"

"Oh, so now they are _betrothed_? Young Potter will rejoice to hear such good news." Tyrion commented, smiling weakly.

Varys laid a finger on his cheek, smiling knowingly. "Ah yes, I'm sure he'll be thankful that our dear Lady Olenna feared for his life. She suspected he'd go after Ser Gregor Clegane, knowing he would never succeed in his quest."

"Why didn't he tell us? We would've gladly given him the Mountain's head." Loras said, overhearing that part of their conversation.

"Without doubt his head would've been a wonderful wedding gift, yes?" Tyrion quipped, having this weird image in his mind where Ser Gregor's head was decorated on top of a wedding cake, and Lady Olenna would happily dance around it with her two bodyguards Left and Right.

His eyes wandered back to Lady Margaery now, she was sitting beside Harry at the edge of the bed, gently removing the black strands of his hair from his sleeping face.

"They say in fairy tales the prince kisses his beautiful princess and thus breaks the evil spell to awake his love from her long, deep slumber. I wonder, maybe my dream prince will also open his eyes again if his princess comes to kiss him awake." Lady Margaery suggested, sounding very excited like a little child who wanted to make her wish become reality.

"It won't work, my lady." Hermione frowned, regarding her doubtingly. "This is forbidden magic of the Dark Arts. You can't just break one of You-Know-Who's spells like that. It's impossible."

Margaery held up her hand to cover her mouth and giggled. "Oh, Hermione, why are you always so serious? You should really allow yourself to have a bit more imagination. Life is so dull and boring if you think like that."

The other witch rolled her eyes at that, obviously thinking this was childish behaviour. Yet the Tyrell princess paid her no mind, her brown eyes staring intently at the young boy lying beneath her. She closed her eyes, whispered a few words that were only meant for Harry's ears and gave him a long, tender kiss, waiting for a miracle to happen.

However, young Potter didn't open his green eyes, nothing had changed. He was still as motionless as a lifeless doll.

Hermione looked at her as if she wanted to say 'I've told you so.' but Lady Margaery didn't seem upset, a flicker of hope lighting up her features as she addressed Lord Varys. "You've promised us that Professor Dumbledore has the ability to break this spell."

Varys nodded. "Yes, my lady. Everyone knows Professor Albus Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard of our time. I'm fairly certain this man can help your young betrothed to regain his consciousness."

"It's settled then. We have to go to Hogwarts." The princess announced in a determined tone, giving her brother Loras an indication to carry Harry's body.

Ser Loras touched Hermione's arm briefly, telling her to stay close to him so that he could protect her and then placed a golden rose on Harry's empty bed.

Tyrion gave him a puzzled look. "Why are doing this, Tyrell?"

"Our enemies shall know who they're dealing with. It's a warning, Lannister. War is coming and the Tyrells don't fear anyone, it doesn't matter if it's the lion or the snake. We shall defeat and kill them all." The young knight answered haughtily.

_Oh, he's one of those arrogant fools who think that war is a playground. Poor boy. After his first taste of battle, he'll realize life is not a song. The gallant knight won't sweep across the battlefield like an unstoppable force and become the hero in shining armour. Those naïve men are the first who die a painful death._ Tyrion thought with a knowing smile.

The cell was almost empty, except for Bronn, Varys and Tyrion. His mercenary friend had acted quickly, thrusting the Spider against the nearest wall and holding him down.

"Now, my lord," Tyrion began, twisting his head to stare up at him, "you should carefully choose your next words, I fear they might be your last."

Varys gulped. "I don't understand, my good lord. What have I done to upset you?"

"Varys, you're a slimy, untrustworthy bastard who delivered us to Voldemort on a silver platter. Your little act almost got us killed so tell me, why shouldn't I return the favour? A Lannister has to pay his debts, doesn't he?" The small Lannister lord asked, wondering what game this man was playing here. Tyrion hated this feeling to be treated like a pawn in another man's chess game.

"It's truly sad, no one loves the Spider, no matter how hard he tries to save the lives of his lordship and his friends. If you recall, my lord, I also saved your squire's life. Podrick Payne works as a servant in the kitchens. He is safe now, just like your comrades and you."

Tyrion watched him carefully, trying to find some sort of truth in the eunuch's words. "So you really wanted to safe us? Why?"

The Master of Whisperers smiled his enigmatic smile."Because I think you are a clever man, my lord. Your conference to gain new allies was a smart move, I give you that. Yet, I daresay you chose the wrong lords and ladies for your alliance against the snake."

The Lannister lord raised an eyebrow, exchanging looks with Bronn who just frowned in return. "Is that so? So, which House would you propose? House Stark? House Greyjoy? Please enlighten me."

Varys laughed, seemingly amused. "Neither the direwolf, nor the kraken. I'm talking about the dragon, my lord."

"The dragon?" Tyrion repeated, not quite believing what he had just heard. After the rebellion the Targaryens were gone, no one had ever seen them again.

"I can arrange a meeting." Varys offered. "Tell the Chosen One the dragon awaits him. A Targaryen will be the only ally he needs to win this upcoming war."


	15. To Hogwarts

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

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><p>The Serpent and the Lion<p>

~Chapter 14: To Hogwarts~

He slowly opened his eyes, the face of Professor Dumbledore swimming into view above him. Was this all still a dream? His surroundings had changed, everything was white, flooded with bright daylight from the great windows. The black fog of Voldemort's magic had disappeared. What happened? Where was he? His emerald eyes scanned the room, looking around and realizing he was lying in a bed with white linen sheets. The unpleasant smell of medical potions and herbs were in the air, causing him to wrinkle his nose instinctively.

_It's the Hospital wing at Hogwarts._ He recognized the room, remembering how often he had stayed here to cure his injuries.

"How long have I... where... and Melisandre?", he began, his throat feeling dry and his voice sounding hoarse as if he had just regained the ability to speak again after a very long time.

Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder, smiling. "Calm down, Harry. Save your strength. You've been asleep for five days, you shouldn't stress your body now."

The young boy nodded, sinking back into the hospital bed. "What happened, sir? The last thing I remember is Voldemort casting this unknown spell and then there was only darkness. I tried to escape but I was trapped in this strange place."

The Headmaster of Hogwarts sighed deeply, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It was dark, powerful magic, Harry. Had it not been, forgive my lack of seemly modesty, for my own prodigious skill and knowledge, I might not have been able to break this evil curse. And of course it is thanks to your friends' valiant efforts that you are safe now and not dead at Voldemort's hands."

"Ron? Hermione?" He croaked, his green eyes searching for his two best friends.

"I am afraid you cannot see them now. Madam Pomfrey made it very clear that you need time to rest and recover." Dumbledore told him and suddenly his face lit up as he remembered something. "Ah, but I've heard she made an exception for one certain visitor."

"_Tyrion_? It must be Tyrion, I have to see him! Is he here?" Harry asked, thinking it had to be the little Lannister lord who had Madam Pomfrey's permission to enter the Hospital wing.

Dumbledore seemed amused. "The lord of Lannister? Oh yes, he's here too but I'm sorry to disappoint you, it's not him."

Before Harry could question him who he was referring to he soon got his answer when the door opened and a familiar, female voice called his name. "_Harry_? _Harry_?"

There she was, the most beautiful angel he had ever seen, standing there only a few metres away from him, bathing in radiant sunlight and smiling at him. His breath caught in his throat. She was so pure, so innocent, so beautiful. The way she laughed, how she smiled this sweet smile that she only reserved for him. Her skin looked so smooth he felt an urge to touch her cheeks, to feel her warmth beneath his fingertips.

_I'm in heaven... again._ Harry thought dreamily and barely noticed the old wizard standing up from his chair, turning to him and giving him a wink. "I think I should leave you now, Harry. It seems you two have a lot to talk about."

"Yes, thank you, sir." The boy mumbled absent-mindedly, his eyes only staring at Lady Margaery Tyrell as if she were the only person present in this room.

She was truly breathtaking, wearing a thin, light-green gown of the finest silk and the golden necklace around her neck showing an intricate pattern of interlaced flowers and roses.

Her brown eyes sparkled, the sheer happiness clearly visible on her face as she sat down on the chair beside his bed. "Harry, I'm glad you're awake again. We were all so worried about you. Are you feeling better?" She asked, concern in her voice, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it gently.

Harry only managed to nod, not quite knowing what to respond and feeling rather helpless in her presence. When she was with him he always behaved like an idiot. It was embarrassing, she probably thought he was downright silly.

Her warm fingers were lacing his and she laughed softly. "Oh, Harry, I love the way you smile that shy smile, it is so cute."

Oh no, this wasn't good, he felt the heat inside his head rising and he didn't need a mirror to know how red his cheeks had become. They were probably as red as Uncle Vernon's favourite carpet in the Dursley's living room. "Thank you, my-my lady." Harry stammered, trying to avoid her beautiful brown eyes and quickly searching for something to drink. His mouth felt even dryer than before.

The young woman somehow knew what he was looking for and handed him a glass of water. "Here, drink this. I'd gladly offer you the sweetest Arbor gold but the nurse, Madam Pomfrey was very strict about that. She told me you're only allowed to drink water, I'm sorry."

Harry waved a hand, "No, it's all right." and took a sip, "It's delicious, really."

_Delicious water... Merlin's pants, that sounds so dumb._ He thought and wanted to hide himself under the bed sheets, not wanting to continue making a fool of himself, especially in front of her.

Lady Margaery's smile was the warmest he had ever seen as she carefully brushed back a loose strand of his jet-black hair. "Truth be told, there is a reason why I'm allowed to visit you today. It is of great importance and I think you should know."

The young wizard glanced at her nervously. "What is it, my lady?"

She looked deeply into his eyes and he instantly felt himself drowning in them, sinking into a sea of brilliant amber as she drew closer to him. "My grandmother Lady Olenna told me we are engaged, Harry."

He sat there open-mouthed, blinking several times. "_Engaged_?"

Margaery nodded. "Yes, that's why we came to Casterly Rock and saved your life. We couldn't allow the snake lord to kill my beloved betrothed."

Harry fumbled with his glasses, he couldn't believe what he had just heard. "I think I told your grandmother that I need time to think about this marriage... er, proposal, you see, I'm still very young and..."

He was trying to find the right words, he didn't want to upset her but Lady Margaery seemed to understand his feelings. She stroked his hand, speaking quietly. "I know how you feel, Harry. But you should realize my family made this choice to protect you. Our betrothal allows you to join your house with ours, you'd be much safer at our castle in Highgarden than here, at Hogwarts."

Harry swallowed, realizing she had only the best intentions. Yet, on the other hand he didn't want to be dependent on House Tyrell. It was unclear what old lady Olenna was scheming here. Tyrion had warned him several times how sneaky the Queen of Thorns could be.

"I...", he started, his fingers tensely clutching the sheets as he tried to organize his thoughts. "I'd like to ask... our betrothal... has it already been decided by our families? Did you talk with my godfather, Sirius Black?"

Margaery smiled again and moved closer, the smell of her fruity, flowery perfume all around him. "Of course it has been decided. Your godfather knows about our marriage proposal and he gave his consent, since you were unable to do so while being in that unconscious state."

"I see." Harry muttered, having an idea why Sirius must have given his consent. He must have been worried about him during his imprisonment and maybe he thought it was better to accept House Tyrell's offer to save him from Voldemort than risking his godson's life and doing nothing.

_Tyrion thinks this is a good opportunity to gain a new ally. House Tyrell is a powerful family to be reckoned with. He's right. It's like he said. I'll have an easier time marrying Lady Margaery than capturing that one Lannister knight, Ser Gregor Clegane._

The young wizard cleared his throat and smiled in return, "My Lady Margaery, it is a great honour to...", he paused and looked into her eyes, feeling his cheeks flush crimson, "wed you."

The Tyrell princess seemed happy, words couldn't describe how lovely she looked right now, her chocolate brown eyes were shining as she kissed his forehead tenderly. "And it is a great honour to wed _you_, Harry James Potter."

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Cersei and her son Joffrey were standing on the balcony of the Golden Gallery, watching the arrival of their guests. Lord Eddard Stark had sent an honour guard to escort his two daughters to Casterly Rock. From up here you could only catch sight of a crowd of people below, mostly soldiers wearing grey armour and white cloaks. Everywhere at the entrance gate were flags showing the direwolf sigil of House Stark, their banners flattering in the cold sea wind.

On this special day they were both dressed in rich garments, the luxurious fabric and colours of their clothing reflecting the wealth and power of House Lannister. Cersei's gown shimmered in burgundy velvet, lined with golden satin. Her wide sleeves were so long that they almost touched the ground, hanging like drapes from her arms. To show her allegiance to both her family and Lord Voldemort she had ordered her handmaidens to embroider their sigils on her shoulders of her gown. Her right shoulder showed an emblazoned golden lion and her left shoulder displayed the silvery snake of Slytherin. Joffrey was resplendent as well, wearing a doublet of scarlet velvet covered with the golden stag of Baratheon and bordered with yellow satin and red rubies.

Her son rested his arms on the balcony railing, burying his chin between his elbows. He had that sullen, sulky expression on his face as he regarded their arriving guests. "I don't want to marry the Stark girl, mother. And I don't want to go to Hogwarts. It's a school for commoners. Lord Voldemort intends to insult me by sending me there, doesn't he? It's outrageous! Who does he think he is? Commanding _me..._ _me_, a future king to do his bidding?"

Cersei studied her son, his reaction wasn't unexpected. Her tone was calm as she replied. "The Stark girl is young and beautiful and you _will_ marry her, this is the last wish of your late father. I have often told you, if you want to be king someday you need allies. And there's no easier way to win support than uniting influential houses through marriage. I'm sure Sansa Stark will become a decent queen and when the time comes she'll give you pretty little princes and princesses."

Her son didn't seem to listen, his elbows still firmly planted on the railing, pouting. "I _don't_ want a queen."

The ghost of a frown passed over Cersei's features. "A king always needs a queen at his side, he can't rule alone. As for Hogwarts, they say it's a renowned school for gifted wizards and witches. Everyone knows that the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore is a grand sorcerer, a living legend who defeated Gellert Grindelwald. This is your chance, you will learn and study a lot, become stronger, attain even greater knowledge and most importantly you'll be safe there. You know we'll be at war soon, it's too dangerous for you to remain at the Rock."

Joffrey snorted, turning his head to give her a petulant look and reminding her. "All this time the Rock has _never_ been conquered, mother. It's impregnable."

Cersei gave him a thin smile. "It's safe against attacks from the outside, true. But I'm talking about our enemies who have turned our castle into their headquarters. I don't want you to stay here when Death Eaters reside within our castle walls. Soon your grandfather will go to war, I will accompany Lord Voldemort on his journey and your uncles won't be here either. Who will be here to protect you then, son?"

"_Our_ guards. We still have our guards. _They_ will protect me." Her son quickly answered.

"Most of our forces will join Lord Tywin's army. As I've told you before, you won't be safe here." Cersei made clear, hoping he'd understand their current situation. She knew this was their best option. If Joffrey would attend Hogwarts he'd be unreachable and be secure from the Dark Lord's servants and even Lord Voldemort himself. Rumour had it that Dumbledore was Voldemort's greatest enemy, some said he was his long-time adversary. This had to be the reason why her Joff had to retrieve this valuable artefact because the Dark Lord was unable to do so himself. Maybe he feared the possibility to face the headmaster in battle. In terms of skill and power it was known they were equally strong. No one could predict the outcome of such a duel.

Joffrey didn't respond, he had probably accepted the fact that he had no say in the matter. Cersei took him in her arms and hugged him, hoping he would calm down and behave himself in front of his betrothed.

"Be nice to the Stark girl, son. Show her how gallant and gracious a true king can be." She whispered in his ear, kissing his golden hair.

"Yes, mother." Joffrey murmured, his voice clearly betrayed his displeasure yet Cersei was certain she could count on him, he wouldn't let her down.

A member of father's small council, Lord Petyr Baelish led the Stark entourage to the gallery, following behind him were one of Lord Stark's most prominent bannermen, Lord Roose Bolton, the Lord of the Dreadfort. After him entered the two girls, Sansa and Arya Stark. They both looked lovely, dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, clearly representing the Tully colours of their mother's house. Cersei thought the older daughter was a pretty one, with long auburn hair and beautiful blue eyes, looking very much like her mother Catelyn Stark. Whereas her little sister resembled her father. Arya had this stern, typical northern facial expression, you could almost mistake her for a boy.

Her green eyes returned to their escort. _Bolton, the Leech Lord. _She remembered how her father used to say how cruel and calculating this man could be, a man without a qualm and without mercy. Beyond doubt a lord to be feared. Now seeing him up close she had to agree. This man truly scared her. His skin was pasty white, probably a side-effect most likely due to his leechings.

But what really stood out were his unnatural eyes. They were paler than stone, darker than milk. He looked at her indifferently and she was reminded of this one rumour. This one rumour saying Lord Bolton enjoyed to skin his enemies at his castle. It was no surprise, Bolton's sigil was also a flayed man, it was embroidered on his heavy fur coat.

Cersei moved forward to greet them. "My Lord Bolton, Lady Sansa and Lady Arya, welcome at Casterly Rock. May I present my son and your betrothed, Prince Joffrey of House Baratheon, son of Robert Baratheon, the true heir to the Iron Throne."

Lord Bolton only nodded slightly while the two young ladies gave a curt bow. Especially Lord Baelish seemed to enjoy this welcoming ceremony greatly, behaving like a polite host who explained everything to the girls, almost acting like an old Maester who enjoyed teaching the little children. He always seemed to smile at Sansa, telling her she was a true beauty queen just like her mother and admiring her Tully look. Sansa thanked him and began to talk to her son, apparently she had only eyes for Joffrey.

They completed the formalities of greeting and Cersei couldn't help but feel proud of her son. He acted like a gallant prince, complimenting Sansa Stark's unmatched beauty and inviting them to go for a stroll around the castle. The two girls seemed excited and particularly Sansa blushed prettily when Joffrey offered her his arm to act as her personal guide.

As they walked through the long halls and corridors, Cersei seized this opportunity to have a word with Lord Bolton, hoping he would share some of his newest reports regarding the war.

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper and she had to strain her ears to understand him. "It was Lord Stark's personal wish to bestow the honour on me to escort his daughters to your castle, my lady."

"And that is all? You don't wish to see Lord Tywin?" She asked him, thinking this man must have ulterior motives.

His thin lips turned to a faint smile. "I see, my lady has an acute mind. Yes, I'm also here to visit your lord father. There are certain developments which will no doubt be of great interest to him."

She raised an eyebrow. "_Developments_? Would you please elaborate on that?"

Another faint smile, the Lord of the Dreadfort seemed slightly amused. "My lady, you should know, the news I bring are only meant for your father's ears, _not_ yours."

"I am a lion, just like my father, Lord Bolton." She reminded him sharply. "These news not only concern him, they concern _our_ family. If you possess certain knowledge, you _will _share it with _me_."

Roose Bolton nodded. "As my lady wishes."

"So, what news do you bring?" Cersei wanted to know, impatience in her voice.

The northern lord sighed, the pale colours of his strange eyes were almost as white as the moon at night. "Can I take it that you know of Lord Stark's plans to negotiate with Lord Stannis Baratheon?"

"Yes."

"Very well, I assume you also know he travelled to Dragonstone to meet him there. Unfortunately, these negotiations weren't successful. My liege lord is being held captive and we haven't heard from him since his departure. Lord Stannis didn't even bother to send us a raven and we don't know if our lord is still alive or dead." He told her in an even tone, his voice giving nothing away. She couldn't say how Lord Bolton felt about Lord Stark's predicament, if he regarded this outcome as an opportunity or a mishap.

"I doubt Lord Stannis killed the wolf. It would be an unwise move." Cersei pointed out, remembering how she had warned Stark just a few days ago, reminding him that Stannis is not Robert. They were brothers, yes, but they were as different as night and day.

Roose Bolton agreed. "Our Lady Catelyn shares this sentiment, my lady. There is nothing to gain by killing her husband although it's quite difficult to say what's going on in Lord Stannis' mind. Especially now, where he puts his faith in that red sorceress from Asshai. Who knows what this strange woman whispers in his ears..."

"So, what will happen now? Will you ask my father to join our forces to attack Dragonstone?"

His lips parted slightly, it might have been a smile as he answered. "In his father's absence his son Lord Robb Stark is our new Lord of Winterfell. Only he can bid Tywin Lannister to combine our strength. But truth be told this is not the reason why I wish to consult your father today. You should know...", he stopped and took a step backwards as a Death Eater arrived.

_Serverus Snape... What does he want here?_ Cersei wondered, eyeing him warily. She had to be very careful around this man, being fully aware of his role as Lord Voldemort's spy, acting as one of his most trusted servants.

Serverus Snape looked tired, his expression was grim, his face was thin and sallow, yet his black eyes were attentive, staring at her intently as if he had the intention to lift her secrets. Before she could ask him why he dared to interrupt her conversation the Dark Mark began to burn on her forearm, tongues of fire licking her skin.

She gritted her teeth and noticed the Potion Master experiencing the same sensations as her, holding his arm and letting out a long, painful groan.

After a minute the other man quickly regained his composure, his face an impassive mask again as he addressed her. "My lady, I beg your pardon, the Dark Lord requests our presence, he summoned a meeting."

Cersei slowly exchanged glances with Lord Baelish and Snape began again, "It's urgent, we shouldn't...", but she silenced the Death Eater with a glare.

She turned to him fiercely, still feeling irritated that she couldn't get all the relevant information she required before this man arrived and disturbed her. "I know it's urgent, Professor Snape. And we will go right now but allow me to excuse myself. As you can clearly see we have guests here."

Snape only nodded in response, taking a step backwards and waiting for her. It was obvious he wanted to go immediately, fearing the Dark Lord's anger if they arrived too late. However, Cersei didn't care, there were important matters she had to deal with first. The young woman took Lord Bolton aside and ordered him to call on her father, reminding him that he had to pass on such crucial information at once. Then she dismissed the children and gave Lord Baelish the order to escort her to this meeting. If she had to go to the serpent's lair, she wouldn't go alone, already guessing what awaited her there.

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There was a chill, unbearable atmosphere in the meeting room. They all sat at a long, ornate table, it was very similar to the one in the Malfoy Manor's drawing room. All Death Eaters seemed anxious and nervous, their eyes avoiding the tall, serpentine man who was seated at the head of the wooden table.

Lord Voldemort was lost in thought, his eyes closed and his yew wand twirling in his large, ivory hands. Snape looked at her briefly, indicating the seat to the Dark Lord's right while he took the chair on his immediate left.

Cersei seated herself without a word and Lord Baelish stood behind her, next to Lord Varys. There had to be an unspoken rule that only Death Eaters were allowed to take a seat at this conference.

_It's about Potter's escape._ She thought while she studied the pensive expression of her master, feeling this uneasiness again, anticipating his explosion in anger. _Voldemort needs a scapegoat, someone to take the blame._

Lord Voldemort slowly opened his eyes, the crimson fire reflecting his rage as he regarded their tense faces. "Tell me, my friends... how could _this_ happen? First the Order didn't take our bait, not attacking Malfoy Manor where all my devoted servants were eagerly awaiting them. And..."

He paused for a long moment, his mouth tight as he perceived their fear, letting the horrible silence hang in the air before he continued. "And then, if this failure wasn't enough, _Harry Potter_ managed to escape as well! How was it possible that _this_ _mere boy_ could fool you once again?"

His voice was calm and quiet, yet Cersei was able to catch that familiar, dangerous glint in his scarlet eyes. She was certain this was only the calm before the storm.

Once again there was a long, uncomfortable silence, no one said a word, they all didn't dare raise their heads, too afraid to face him and his punishment.

"_No one_? Is no one here who is willing to accept the responsibility for this _failure_?" He asked again, tilting his head to the side and turning his attention to Lucius Malfoy. "What say _you_, Lucius?"

The blond wizard shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing up at him for a split second and quickly averting his eyes again. He took his wife's hand as if Narcissa could somehow protect and shield him from the Dark Lord's wrath. Lucius' face was seemingly paler than before, his skin ashen as if he had seen a ghost, replying. "My Lord, I-I don't know, we searched for the boy but he's nowhere to be found."

Lord Voldemort lifted a hairless eyebrow, sneering. "Are you telling me, Lucius, that _the boy_ has eluded your search party, that _Potter_ escaped without leaving a trace, vanishing into thin air?"

Malfoy nodded, his eyes glued to the table, muttering. "Y-yes, my lord."

"_Such failure_, Lucius. Such _disappointment_." He hissed, watching the other man shake with fear.

One of the Death Eaters, Yaxley, Cersei recalled the man's name, cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Please forgive us, my lord. We will find the boy, if you give us another chance. We could..."

The Dark Lord glared at him, cutting him off brusquely. "Lord Voldemort does not forget. And he does not forgive either." He said in a cold, pitiless tone, slashing his yew wand down. There was the humming of his dark magic in the air now. Yaxley instantly let out a loud, hoarse cry as he sank back in his chair, too weak to beg for mercy.

"I am tired of offering you chances to redeem yourselves. Do not impinge further on my generosity." His thin lips twitched as his red eyes scanned his followers, probably considering the notion to let them all feel Lord Voldemort's wrath, holding his yew wand a little higher, ready to strike any minute now.

"When soldiers are unable to fulfil their lord's wishes, the fault lies with their master, the one who selected them for this task." A calm voice remarked, breaking the silence. All eyes instantly turned to the man who was standing at the door's entrance. It was her father, Lord Tywin Lannister, wearing his impressive crimson armour as if he prepared for an upcoming battle. His eyes were on Voldemort, pale green flecked with gold, his gaze so cool it almost sent shivers down her spine.

"Lord Tywin." Voldemort's voice sounded eerily quiet as his reptilian eyes met his. "I have hoped you would join us."

"You wanted to know who aided young Potter. _Here_ is your answer.", he threw a golden rose in his direction. The Dark Lord cast a Levitation spell, the rose slowly flying towards him.

"What is _this_?" He hissed, rotating the golden object in the air and scrutinizing it closely.

"A parting gift from the ones who freed your prisoner." Her father replied in an emotionless tone.

"A golden rose... _House Tyrell_? _They_ rescued Potter?" Cersei murmured, recognizing their symbol and asking herself if Lady Olenna would go that far and dare provoke the Dark Lord. Would the thorny rose really be so foolish to meddle in the serpent's affairs?

Varys nodded, his arms folded over his chest and smiling that knowing smile. "Ah, yes, the Tyrells. If I remember correctly they made an offer to Harry Potter, asking him to wed their lovely daughter, Lady Margaery in exchange for their allegiance. It seems this offer still stands."

"_Tyrell_? I see, another one of the Great Houses who dare challenge Lord Voldemort by stealing away his prey. Their punishment shall be swift and severe. _Where_ are they? " The serpentine man demanded to know, his composure still calm and collected as he stared at the Lord of Casterly Rock.

"If you wish to punish their family, you'll have to go to France." Her father made clear, his eyes not leaving his.

The dark wizard made a dismissive gesture, leaning back in his grand armchair. For a moment he seemed to contemplate his words silently, then without warning his pale hand stretched out with a swish, taking Cersei's left arm, sliding back her sleeve and stroking her Dark Mark with his spidery fingers. "I won't waste my precious time hunting these fools down. But it seems this would be an appropriate task for you, Lord Tywin. I command _you_ to make full use of your own potential, to prove your capabilities and your worth to me. And if you succeed, I shall reward you. Lord Voldemort always rewards those who are loyal and faithful to him."

Voldemort gave him an expectant glance, his hand still resting on Cersei's forearm as if to remind her father of the fact that she was his now, that the lion was his possession.

Lord Tywin stared at him, unmoving and unblinking. His voice was colder than a blade as he declared. "The lion is _not_ your servant, my lord. Never forget that. If anything we are equals, nothing more, nothing less. And aside from that I don't have time to perform your petty requests. I've already assembled our forces, we will march against Lord Stannis Baratheon."

"I gave you an order and you shall comply. If not you shall pay for your impudence." The Dark Lord warned him and rose from his seat, his breathing shallow and his slit-nostrils flaring.

But Lord Tywin ignored the snake lord's deadly glare, already turning on his heel, facing the door and starting to leave, disregarding him completely as if he weren't there.

Livid eyes watched him with a terrible, blank expression, his wand twitching in his right hand. "Don't turn your back on me, Tywin Lannister!" Voldemort hissed furiously and then his voice sank to a cold, merciless whisper. "_Crucio_!"

Before the torture curse could reach its target, a sphere of liquid gold emerged from the ground, the magical shield enveloping Lord Tywin's body, repelling the curse without difficulty. To Cersei's surprise the shining surface showed no signs of damage at all, looking like the metal had just been polished.

Then a second attack, this time a flash of green light shot toward the barrier with unbelievable speed. In the blink of an eye the liquid reshaped itself again, like a living thing reacting to the enemy's moves and strategies. The thin membrane was a ball now. Its surface tension strengthened, supported by Lord Tywin's magic. It was a brilliant display of her father's prowess.

_Father is a true master of defence and evasive magic, Voldemort can't hurt him_. Cersei thought, allowing herself to smile and catching a glimpse of Lucius who seemed taken aback as well, witnessing Lord Tywin's magical power for the first time.

The jet of green light crashed against the golden shield, its dark magic consumed by the membrane, the green light blending with the golden liquid, enhancing the membrane's power.

The Dark Lord tilted his head, his serpentine features showing an unreadable expression as his gaze wandered to his yew wand and back to Tywin Lannister.

"Interesting. You are a skilled wizard, Lord Tywin." He murmured, his high-pitched voice sounding thoughtful as he assessed this man again, admiring his skill.

The mass of golden liquid changed its shape again, lying like a pool of water beside Lord Tywin's feet. The Lannister lord was certain that this little demonstration was enough to prove his point. He gave him a slight nod. "By your leave I have to go now."

Lord Voldemort seated himself again, his voice soft as he waved a hand. "Yes, you may go, Lord Tywin. Stannis Baratheon is also an enemy of mine and you do me a great honour by fighting him. Therefore I shall choose another qualified wizard to take your place."

Cersei blinked, it was unbelievable. The snake allowed him to leave, why? She had been sure their battle would go on till one of them would go down, till one of them would either surrender or die. But this was unexpected. Now he must have changed his mind. Voldemort must have realized that he needed her father, detecting and acknowledging his true value. That had to be the reason why he didn't kill him. He couldn't risk losing such a useful asset.

The Dark Lord addressed Lucius Malfoy again. "Lucius, I'll give you another chance to please your lord. I assign _you_ to deal with House Tyrell. Take as many men as you need and show them what it means to anger Lord Voldemort."

Malfoy got up, straightened himself and approached him warily. The blonde wizard knelt, showing his reverence for all to see, kissing the hem of Voldemort's black robe. "Thank you, my lord. You honour me." He croaked, not daring to meet his blood-red gaze.

As he turned to leave, Voldemort stopped him, raising one long, skeletal finger. "And Lucius, you certainly haven't forgotten my instructions concerning your son Draco?"

The other man swallowed hard, you could hear the quiet sob of his wife Narcissa in the meeting room but no one seemed to notice her. "No, my lord. Draco knows the role he has to play, he won't disappoint you."

"Very good." Voldemort said, spreading his thin lips into a semblance of a smile and his ruby eyes glittering with glee. Cersei hoped this meeting was over now but regretfully the Dark Lord wasn't finished yet. He grasped her arm once more, pulling her close and looking deep into her emerald eyes. "Tell me, my dear, is your son ready to go to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, they will arrive there tomorrow morning." She replied, feeling his dark magic pulsing over her tattoo, crackling like electricity on her skin. It was strange being near him, she almost flinched, wanting to snatch her arm from his firm grip.

He arched an hairless eyebrow. "_They_?"

Before she could reply, Lord Petyr Baelish bent forward, smiling. "We agreed that our young prince needs bodyguards at Hogwarts. Ser Sandor Clegane will be his personal guard while my humble self will observe his moves and aid him in his quest to retrieve this valuable object."

Serverus Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "I understand your demand to employ a bodyguard. Albus Dumbledore will surely agree to this request, regarding the boy's special status. But I seriously doubt he'll allow a stranger such as yourself to roam about our school grounds."

Littlefinger smirked, he was clearly enjoying this conversation, his grey-green eyes were glinting mischievously. "Ah, Professor Snape. I'm truly sorry to disappoint you but I have a right to roam about your holy school halls."

The black-haired man snarled. "_What_ do you mean?"

Lord Baelish sauntered over to the table, announcing cheerfully. "You see, after Remus Lupin's resignation and Alastor Moody's few weeks as teacher I've pulled strings and contacted a few of my dear friends at the Ministry of Magic. They were so eager to assist me, assigning me, Lord Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin as new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

Voldemort pondered on this unexpected announcement, his sibilant voice very soft. "These are good news indeed. Don't you agree, Serverus? Now we have another source inside Hogwarts, another candidate fighting for our cause, this should prove very useful."

Snape's lip curled, it was fairly obvious he didn't approve his new colleague. Cersei remembered a certain rumour that the Potion Master always wanted to take the post as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher himself. It must annoy him greatly to see a man like Baelish achieving his goal and receiving his desired position without difficulties.

"It is truly an honour to meet a fellow colleague here." Baelish said excitedly, shaking Snape's hand who just sat there, eyeing him with his black, fathomless eyes and remarking dryly. "Yes, such a _pleasant _surprise."

Varys tittered, giving Littlefinger a suspicious look. "My lord is full of surprises. So now you are a teacher, hmm? I've never expected you to have such vast knowledge of the Dark Arts."

"I have _many_ qualities." Lord Baelish told him, stroking his chin beard and glancing at him with a sly smile.

"Oh, I'm sure you are _versatile_, my old friend." The Spider put a powdered hand on Littlefinger's shoulder, shaking his head and sighing dramatically. "But the poor, poor children. I've heard such awful rumours about you, my lord, and I fear these students won't be safe in your classes."

Littlefinger only smiled, unconcerned as he returned. "Yes, children... we could talk about your little birds as well, Lord Varys. Such pretty little things."

_Gods help us, they're playing their silly game again_. Cersei had enough of this, stirring in her seat, restless like a lioness. "Lord Baelish, I believe you have to attend to our guests, don't you? Tell the girls they will accompany my son to Hogwarts. I'm sure they'll be delighted to hear such good news."

"Yes, certainly, as my lady commands." Lord Baelish bowed deeply, giving the eunuch one last glance before he strode out the door, his green cape billowing behind him.

This was exactly how they had planned it. Truth be told it was actually Littlefinger's idea to take the Stark daughters to Hogwarts too, reminding her of his promise to Catelyn Stark to keep her children safe. Cersei didn't understand why this man insisted to keep his word. Could it be possible that he still had feelings for Lady Stark after all this time? If so, he was a weak man. Love was a weakness. At the very least she and Lord Voldemort agreed on one thing.

.

.

_IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI_

.

.

He followed Ron Weasley through a poorly lit hallway of an old house in London. The wallpaper on the walls was peeling off and the old-fashioned gas lamps cast a flickering light on the time-worn carpet, gloomy shadows dancing on the moving portraits whose eyes followed their path.

Jaime wanted to ask the boy what this place was and hesitated as a plump woman marched towards them and stopped in front of them, hands on her hips. "Ronnie! Do you have any idea how worried I've been? You could've been killed." She said, staring at Ronald's guilty face.

The lad averted her gaze, muttering. "I'm sorry, Mum. It was a foolish idea, I know."

His mother pointed at the kitchen door, saying in a strict tone "Come, have dinner and then we'll talk about everything when your father gets back from his work."

"Yeah." Ronald nodded, shuffling forward, his shoulders sagging.

This kind-faced, small woman reminded Jaime of his own mother Joanna, though he could barely remember her, how she looked like, her voice or the smell of her perfume. There were only little memories he kept in his heart. The way she smiled or how she sometimes told Cersei and him to play with other children. But they both didn't listen, always staying together as twins who never wanted to be with anyone else. Thinking about Cersei now only brought the sadness back. He had tried to meet his sister last night, in a small, cosy Muggle hotel on the outskirts of Lannisport. Hours went by yet she didn't come. Jaime had felt depressed the whole day, mulling over his sister and wondering if she was all right, if she was safe.

Ronald's mother jolted him out of his thoughts as she suddenly hugged him, whispering in a relieved tone. "Thank you, Lord Lannister. For saving my Ronnie's life. I am so grateful for your help. Merlin knows what would've happened if you haven't been there..."

Jaime was taken aback, he wasn't used to other people hugging him. It was unexpected and felt more than awkward. He was unsure how to react and patted her on the back, trying to soothe her. "Ssh, it was nothing, Lady Weasley. In fact it was your son who saved _my_ life. So _I _should be the one to thank you, my lady, for bringing up such a fine, young lad."

She blushed and laughed. "No one has ever called me _Lady_ Weasley. But please, you're a friend of our family now, just call me Molly."

The Lannister knight smiled, bowing down and kissing the back of her hand. "Molly... such a beautiful name. I am Jaime Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister and I am honoured to make your acquaintance."

Molly Weasley giggled like a young maiden, shaking her head. "Please, don't be so formal. Come in and have dinner with us. How do the Muggles say? The more the merrier, right?"

The kitchen wasn't very large,compared to the many kitchens at Casterly Rock. But to him it was sufficient, there was enough space here and the amount of chairs at the dining table was adequate as well. Ronald's mother was busy cooking their meals, always throwing looks at a pair of red-haired twins as if those two were up to something. There was also a young girl sitting right next to him, probably the lad's little sister who sometimes glanced at him for a few seconds and quickly looked away again. _Must be a shy girl._ He thought.

"And who are you, little princess?" He asked her amiably.

"Ginny." Her voice was a soft, quiet whisper.

"I suppose Ginny is the short form for Ginevra. Lovely." The girl's cheeks turned a pretty shade of red, such a cute girl. A pity he had only eyes for Cersei.

Somehow Jaime liked the warm and familial feel here, realizing he never had something like this in his life. A happy family sitting together and enjoying a good meal. Even if his family was together, the atmosphere had always been cold and sombre. Tyrion would try to jest, a rather futile attempt to lighten the mood while his father Tywin and his sister Cersei would only glare at his little brother. It was sad, really. All the Lannister gold was useless, all this gold couldn't buy you happiness, true happiness.

The twin-boys regarded him cheerfully, talking in unison. "Thank you for saving ickle Ronniekins' life, ser. We owe you one."

Jaime chuckled, giving Ron a side-glance who just rolled his eyes at that. "_Ickle Ronniekins_? What a cute, little nickname. I admit it sounds even better than _Kingslayer_."

Ronald's ears went pink and he glared at his two older siblings, mumbling. "They never shut their mouth."

"Dinner is ready!" Molly Weasley announced, handing over Butterbeer bottles and heavy plates stuffed with food. This woman had cooked too much, he thought as he stared at his own overfilled plate. There was so much, he didn't know where to begin. Sausages, potatoes, bacon and steak, roast beef, cheese, carrots and all kinds of salads.

The blond Lannister knight smiled at her. "This all looks very delicious, thank you, my lady."

He chewed on his steak, lost in thought. His uncle Kevan had advised the Order of the Phoenix to call off their attack on Malfoy Manor, explaining that Harry Potter wasn't imprisoned there. Sirius Black had thanked them, due to his information a lot of lives were saved. Black even offered Jaime a chance to work together in this war but he had refused his proposal, knowing father would be furious if the lion supported the _sheep_.

_Sheep... These people are highly-skilled wizards and witches. They fought in the first Wizarding War and now they're fighting in this one. How can they be sheep? It's absurd, father. Can't you see it?_

Ron leaned over the table, noticing Jaime's frown. "Don't you like the steak?"

He waved a hand. "The steak is delicious, my friend. Your mother is a talented cook. It's just that..."

The old door opened with a loud groan and his uncle, Kevan Lannister almost ran to the table, breathing heavily and holding a letter in his hand.

Jaime raised his eyebrows. "What is it, uncle?"

"A raven came," his uncle began, catching his breath, "from Casterly Rock. Your father..."

Molly Weasley gave him a concerned look, offering him a seat but Kevan declined.

"I think you should calm down first. Whatever father has to say, I'm sure it can wait a minute or two." Jaime said lazily.

"No, it... can't wait." Kevan insisted, his voice a little louder now.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense. What does the letter say?"

Uncle Kevan's face was red, it was either from exertion or nervousness as he breathed. "Lord Stannis..."

Jaime smirked. "The lobster lord? Yes, what is he doing? Let me guess, he's still waiting at Dragonstone, calling his bannermen, brooding over this one perfect battle strategy and grinding his teeth as he always does."

His uncle shook his head, his expression very serious now. "No, Jaime! Lord Stannis is marching."

"Marching?"

Kevan nodded, clutching the piece of paper tightly in his hand, his whole arm shaking. "Yes, and what's worse his forces are headed to King's Landing, to claim the Iron Throne."

"The lobster has courage, I give him that. So what will father do?" He asked him.

"Your father has assembled his army to intercept him."

Jaime leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. "Well, father is a brilliant tactician. I'm sure he'll be victorious."

"We should help him." Kevan urged. "He needs us."

"If I recall correctly, dear uncle, father gave us strict orders to fight the snakes. And we _will_ fight against the snakes," He paused and hinted at the Weasley family. "together with our friends here of course, the Order of the Phoenix."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Thanks to all readers and reviewers out there, every review is much appreciated and I'm always looking forward reading feedback, it really makes my day. We'll definitely see more Joffrey, Sansa and of course Arya in the next chapter and Joffrey will be as evil as we all know him. Once again, thank you guys. ;)<em>


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